


only when you hit the ground

by Lise



Series: Remember This Cold [20]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Natasha, Blood and Injury, Established Relationship, Friendship, Gore, Hurt Loki, Hurt/Comfort, I'd feel bad about villainizing Doom but he does it to himself, Loki on Painkillers, Loki's a goddamn mess, M/M, Major Character Injury, Protective Steve, Protective Thor, Rescue, Steve is a sad panda, Steve's relationships with the other Avengers, beating Loki up is like my favorite pastime, i did a thing, the other Avengers deal with the Loki problem (or don't), this fic also has a "suddenly Clint Barton feelings" moment watch for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 13:59:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1349950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>None escape Doom's justice,</i> Victor von Doom said, once. It appears he meant it. Thor's going to kill someone, Clint's really not on board with this plan, and Steve is not feeling like the reasonable one at the moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	only when you hit the ground

**Author's Note:**

> So! Welcome to the longest installment in this verse so far. And also the last one before Captain America: The Winter Soldier comes out and CHANGES EVERYTHING well no not everything but I do have Plans. For this 'verse. In light of certain events. _We shall see how that goes._
> 
> Anyway - this fic kind of fought me in places. But I think I've come out of it stronger for all that. And ultimately...I'm pretty pleased with it. Especially with the chance to get to explore Steve's relationships with the other Avengers, and how they've changed because of this verse, and what different perspectives on the situation are. And also beating Loki up horribly, that's an important thing too.
> 
> I borrowed T'Challa, or Black Panther, from comics. He is the ruler of Wakanda (a fictional country), and also awesome. I would love for him to get a movie, preferably without the borderline racist weirdness of his comics origins.
> 
> With so much thanks to [portraitoftheoddity](http://portraitoftheoddity.tumblr.com), who talked out some difficult points with me, and to [zaataronpita](http://zaataronpita.tumblr.com), who was _infinitely_ helpful with the political bits of this fic, and is responsible for the inclusion of Rhodey. (And also betaed the whole damn thing, so there's that too.)
> 
> It takes a small village to write a Steve/Loki fic, apparently. Thank you guys so much.

Steve woke up in the middle of the night to the shrilling of the tower alarm. He groaned, glanced at the clock, then squeezed his eyes closed. “JARVIS?”

“Your assistance is needed, Captain,” the smooth voice of Tony’s computer said, “An incident has occurred in Wakanda.” Steve heard a low, displeased noise, and next to him, Loki shifted, throwing one of his long legs over Steve’s body, the arm over his chest suddenly seeming to grow heavier. His nose pressed into Steve’s neck.

“Sorry,” Steve said, with genuine regret. “I have to go. T’Challa’s a friend, and he’s helped us out more than once.”

“Mmm. They can manage without you.” Loki’s voice was blurry and thick with sleep, and Steve held back the urge to smile fondly. He found Loki’s hand, fingers splayed on his chest, and laced his fingers with them.

“Loki…”

“It is the middle of the night,” Loki said, sounding faintly grouchy.

“Supervillains,” Steve said, “no respect for a good sleep schedule.” He couldn’t keep his amusement out of his voice, carefully starting to disentangle himself from Loki, though regretfully. “I’d rather stay here, but…”

Loki exhaled through his nose, but finally withdrew his leg, and Steve sat up and stretched. “Oh, very well. If you must.” His eyes were just open to slits, and Steve leaned down to kiss his cheek. Loki turned his head at the last minute, catching Steve’s lips on his, one of his hands capturing the back of Steve’s head. He pulled away with a little bite of Steve’s lower lip that left his body tingling, mouth quirking. What Steve could see of his eyes, though, was serious. “Go safely. Return in one piece, or I shall be terribly put out.”

“Can’t have that,” Steve said, and drew away, reaching for his discarded clothes on the floor. He could feel Loki’s eyes on him, a sensation that still made him feel vaguely as though he ought to blush.

“I think I’ll give you a massage when you come back,” Loki said, idly. “An oil rubdown, perhaps. What do you think?”

Steve shook his head a little, but smiled as he pulled on his pants. “Now you’re just trying to distract me.”

“Is it working?” Steve pulled on his shirt, and as he started to button it, Loki rolled up to his feet and caught Steve’s wrists deftly, then began doing up the buttons himself. “I don’t know why you bother, when you’re just going to have to put on your uniform anyway.”

“I’m not going to walk naked all the way to my room,” Steve said. Loki’s mouth twitched.

“Why not?” Steve gave him a look, and Loki laughed softly, did up the last button and stepped back. “Oh, very well. I suppose it’s for the best. I don’t want to share you.” Steve felt a delightful little shiver, and opened his mouth.

“Captain,” JARVIS said. Steve had to be imagining the chiding note in the computer’s voice. “The Avengers are gathering on the top floor.”

“Tell them I’ll be right there,” Steve said, and took a step back. “Go back to sleep,” he urged. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Loki scoffed quietly. “I doubt that,” he murmured, but he stretched out on the bed again. “Go on. Perform your feats of heroism. I shall be here, enjoying the rest of a good night’s sleep.”

“Rub it in,” Steve said, but he smiled, too, and caught the sliver of one from Loki before he turned and headed out.

He took the elevator down to his own room, where he hastily changed into the suit before starting for the roof. Almost as soon as he picked it up, his communicator crackled. “Yo, Cap,” came Tony’s familiar voice. “What’s the hold up?”

“I’m on my way,” Steve said, in lieu of answering, though he could feel his face get warm.

“What,” Tony went on, “busy night kept you up late?” Steve shook his head before he remembered that Tony couldn’t hear it. “Don’t give me that look, Tasha, I’m never going to get over that mental image…”

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, raising his voice a little. He hoped Thor wasn’t listening. Or that he wasn’t following the innuendo, though Steve doubted that. He _knew,_ objectively, that Thor couldn’t be unaware, but it was still just – vaguely uncomfortable, to imagine that Thor knew that he and Loki were…sleeping together.

“Guess who,” Natasha said, as Steve got into the elevator for the roof. “Old favorite, big fan of his own name.”

Steve felt himself stiffen. “Doom?” He hadn’t faced Doom on the field since…since. That didn’t mean he’d forgotten the circumstances of Loki’s coming to stay here. That he’d forgotten the bloody ruin of Loki’s chest, Bruce’s tight _I don’t think even Loki’s crazy enough to vivisect himself._

The communicator crackled oddly, and Thor’s voice sounded strangely distorted. “Doctor Doom will not slip away from his crimes this time,” Thor said, voice low and ferocious, and Steve could almost picture him humming with a barely contained storm, eyes blazing. The elevator dinged the floor, and he stepped out in time that he heard the next words both from his comm and from Thor himself. “This time, I swear it, I will crush his skull with Mjolnir myself.”

“Whoa there,” Tony said, but Steve could understand the feeling. Thor had gone after Doom before. Steve had never heard the details, but it hadn’t ended well. Or, at any rate, Doom had survived. Clint was checking his quiver with too-meticulous care.

“Hey, Steve,” he said, voice neutral. Steve found a smile.

“What is Doom doing in Wundagore?” he asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from potentially dangerous waters.

“Good question,” Bruce said. Next to the rest of them, decked out – well, so to speak – he looked almost bizarrely normal, wearing one of his usual shirts, the only concession a pair of pants that Tony had designed to withstand the stress of Hulking out. “Best guess, it has something to do with vibranium. He hasn’t wanted it before, but this is Doom – he’s always after new toys.”

“And T’Challa?”

“Called us,” Natasha said, her voice brisk as she checked her Widow’s Bites, but he noticed her looking at him sidelong. He always wondered how much she knew, or guessed, what she thought. It was impossible to tell, at least for him. “He said Doom claimed to be on a diplomatic errand. When he was denied access, things deteriorated.”

“Deteriorated here meaning he called in a mob of Doombots and started blowing things up,” Tony said. “To translate out of Black Widow Understatement. T’Challa said it’s a matter of numbers, mostly, and keeping the bots out of civilian areas. Doesn’t sound too bad, as far as Doom goes. Maybe this time I can pick up a Doombot before the self-destruct goes off, I’d _love_ to see what’s inside those things…”

“Anything else I should know?” Steve asked, hefting his shield on his arm.

“That Doom himself is mine,” Thor said, promptly, and Steve thought he should probably argue with that, and chose to ignore it, looking to Natasha. She shook her head.

“That’s all we’ve got. We should probably take off, if we don’t want T’Challa and his people to have everything cleared up by the time we get there.”

“Right,” Steve said, and squared his shoulders. “Avengers Assemble, then.”

“Just once,” Tony said as his faceplate flipped down, “I wish you’d let me say that. You kids have a nice flight.”

“Yeah,” Bruce murmured, eyeing the Quinjet mournfully. “Always do.”

“Cheer up, Bruce,” Clint said, clapping him on the shoulder and looking a little more relaxed than he had when Steve had walked in. “I’ll keep it to two loop-the-loops while you’re onboard, okay?”

Steve had to smile as he climbed into the plane, setting thoughts of Loki aside, though even still, the thought that he’d be there when Steve got back made his chest feel more than a little warm. He caught himself when Bruce raised his eyebrows, smiling a little back as they buckled in. Thor sat down next to Steve, despite his solemn expression clasping Steve’s shoulder with unmistakable warmth.

“You boys ready for take-off?” Natasha called back, and Steve leaned his head back, settling in for the flight.

“Ready when you are,” he said. Between them and T’Challa, they’d have this cleared up in no time.

* * *

Much as the others might dislike it, Steve always rather liked the mopping up.

It was hard in some ways – dealing with those who’d lost people, helping to dig through the wreckage for the wounded or dead – but it was better than the fighting. This, Steve thought sometimes, was really the heroism; putting the world back together for the people who had suffered. Starting to set things right.

He was still bone-tired by the time T’Challa politely but firmly told them to get out of his kingdom and let him manage the rest. They all were, that much was obvious – Clint fell asleep almost the minute he sat down on the Quinjet, snoring faintly, and Bruce looked like he was nodding off. Tony sat down with a clunk and groaned loudly. Natasha looked fairly alert, but he could catch the tiredness in her movements as well. Only Thor seemed largely untouched, and decidedly pleased.

“What are you so happy about,” Tony said. “We didn’t get the guy.”

“No,” Thor admitted, “but it was nonetheless an invigorating battle.” Steve had to smile a little, and sank down into the co-pilot’s seat next to Natasha. She cast him a sidelong look, but didn’t question, the corner of her mouth twitching up as the engines came to life.

“Excited to get back?” she murmured, once they were airborne. Steve glanced at her, but couldn’t catch anything in her expression.

“Yes,” he said, after a moment, honestly. “I always am.”

Natasha nodded, fractionally. “You seem happy,” she said, eyes forward. “More so, lately. More relaxed. You’re quicker to smile, too.” Steve gave her a startled look, but she didn’t so much as glance in his direction. “He’s been good for you.”

Steve almost glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone else was listening. He felt himself tense, though there was no judgment in Natasha’s voice. “You think so?” he said, carefully, not sure how to take that.

Natasha turned her head, eyebrows raised just a fraction. “You don’t?” Steve didn’t know what to say to that, and she smiled, very slightly and a little crooked. “Oh, Steve. Don’t look so worried. This is me trying to say that I’m relieved.”

“Relieved,” Steve said, a little dubiously.

“Because I didn’t think it would ever work,” she said bluntly. That was Natasha, though. She didn’t pull her punches. “I was ready for the worst. For you to get hurt in ways your healing factor couldn’t fix. And yet. Here we are.” She looked forward again. Steve watched her, frowning, but gradually he relaxed, a little, felt himself start to smile.

“Are you telling me you approve?” he said, half teasing. Natasha laughed, quietly.

“Maybe a little,” she said. “If you want to construe it like that. Mostly I’m just saying that I think you made the right call where nobody else probably could have. So…good job.”

It was strange, but Steve felt a bit of…relief. He didn’t like feeling like he had to keep everything quiet all the time. Like he was supposed to pretend that the part of his life that was Loki’s didn’t exist to everyone but Thor. It was good, to hear that from Natasha.

Steve glanced over his shoulder at the back of the plane. Despite his earlier exuberance, Thor too seemed to have dozed off. It was Clint Steve looked at, though. “I know you don’t…it’s Clint I worry about,” he said, finally. “If he’s ever going to – I don’t know. Forgive me.”

Natasha was quiet for several moments. “It’s not that,” she started to say, finally, and then stopped. “It’s complicated,” she said, finally. Steve fought the urge to sigh. Natasha had closed up, though.

“I’m sorry,” he said, almost reflexively. She shook her head slightly.

“It’s fine.”

The rest of the flight passed in relative silence. Natasha’s expression was focused and set, and Steve left her alone, feeling like he’d misstepped. The others started waking up as they approached New York – or at least, Tony did, yawning. It was almost midday, and Steve wondered idly if Loki was still asleep. He doubted it, but he well might still be in bed, reading, lazy like a cat…

“Oy, JARVIS,” Tony said. “Incoming, everything good for landing?” No answer. Tony sat up, suddenly tense. “JARVIS!”

Steve felt himself tense as well, going rigid with sudden fear, any number of scenarios flashing through his mind, but only a moment later there was a loud crackle and JARVIS’s voice came in over the Quinjet system.

“My apologies, sir,” it said. “A power surge occurred. I contained it successfully, and all systems are fully operational.”

“A power surge?” Tony sounded incredulous. “Really, JARVIS? _Really?_ ”

“I _am_ an electronic system, Mr. Stark.”

Steve could see Natasha visibly exhale, and his shoulders sank down. “Everything’s good, then?” he said, relieved.

“Running scans now, Captain Rogers,” JARVIS said. “Everything appears to be-”

Steve’s stomach dropped and his heartbeat sped up as JARVIS cut off. _It’s nothing,_ he told himself, _probably just,_ but it wasn’t nothing, he already knew, and if the tower had been attacked – _Loki can defend himself,_ he reminded himself firmly, but not against everything, he’d seen that there were things out there that could take even Loki down.

“Everything appears to be what,” Tony said, and he was on his feet, now, clearly alarmed. “JARVIS, what’s the deal?”

“Mr. Stark…I fear I have been compromised,” said that level, British voice, eerily calm. “It seems there has been a security breach that I somehow did not observe. The eleventh floor registers…significant damage.”

 _Loki._ Steve’s heart was pounding in his ears, and his hands felt frozen on the controls. “What’s going on?” Clint was awake, though he sounded confused. Steve made his mouth move.

“And Loki?” he asked, dreading the answer.

Silence, for a moment. “Appears to have disappeared, Captain Rogers.”

“My friends?” Thor’s voice, slightly foggy, came from the back of the plane. “What is it?” Steve’s head felt blank. Empty. _Gone._ He kept coming back to Loki buttoning his shirt, not twelve hours ago. Talking about massages and oil.

“Steve,” Natasha said quietly. He tried to take a deep breath in.

“JARVIS,” Tony said, sounding tense. “Is there any sign of – can you tell if this was…” Steve could almost feel the nervous glance in his direction, or perhaps in Thor’s. Maybe both. “An…internal disturbance?”

"Patterns of destruction suggest that probability is not in favor of an escape attempt,” JARVIS said, after a brief pause, and Steve wasn’t sure whether to slump or tense more. Because if it wasn’t an escape, that meant it had been an attack, and if it had been an attack-

Loki had a lot of enemies. He could only think of one, though, that might be able to hack JARVIS to keep him from sounding the alarm. And now that he thought of it, of course it was obvious. Impossibly, nakedly obvious. Why storm into Wundagore and throw a tantrum at T’Challa when Doom had never showed interest before? The man wasn’t stupid. _Oh, no._

“What has happened?” Thor asked, more stridently. “Is this to do with – you are speaking about Loki, what has-”

“Calm down,” Tony was saying. “Calm down, maybe it’s nothing, we know he can hide from JARVIS with his magic whatever, maybe that’s all that’s…”

“Fuck,” Clint said, voice tight and desperate. “ _Fuck,_ are you telling me he’s _loose_ somewhere-”

 _It’s Doom,_ Steve wanted to say. _We were tricked. Fell for the distraction and meanwhile…_

“Loki would not run,” Thor said, voice fierce and brassy – with fear, Steve thought. “This was an attack – I will go and-”

“He’s already gone,” Bruce said, suddenly, and Steve heard in his tone that Bruce had put together the same thing he had. Probably faster.

“What do you mean?” Clint snapped. “Loki? _Obviously,_ I _told_ you this was the stupidest fucking idea I’d ever-”

“I meant Doom,” Bruce said, his voice heavy, and Steve remembered that even more than he had, Bruce had seen up close and personally what Doom had done the last time he’d had a hold of Loki. “Though Loki too, I expect. Though I’d guess for _him_ it wasn’t willingly.” The silence was deafening.

“Let me out,” Thor said. His voice was flat, expressionless.

Steve could see Natasha coil tight out of the corner of his eye. For himself, he could only stare fixedly forward, thinking- _Go safely._ His heart was pounding too hard against his rib cage. “Let me out,” Thor said again, and this time the storm was audible in his voice. “Or I will not be responsible for the damage to this aircraft.”

Steve wished he could be Thor. Could just unleash rage rather than that constant, nagging voice at the back of his mind, _be calm, be reasonable, think this through._ “What are you going to do,” Natasha asked tightly.

“First, ensure that all is as the JARVIS machine says, and that Loki is not hidden in the tower. And if he is not-” Steve heard a mutter of thunder outside. “I will fly to Latveria and _tear von Doom’s head from his shoulders._ Open the _door._ ”

“He won’t be there,” Bruce said, sounding tired. “Thor, there’s no-”

“ _Open the door._ ”

“We’re landing now,” Natasha said, her voice clipped. “Hold on just a minute-”

“ _Now!_ ”

Natasha didn’t argue again. She punched a few buttons to open the hangar doors. Steve glanced over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of Thor’s face just before he jumped through, Mjolnir to hand. He wondered what his own face looked like.

“Steve,” Natasha said, lowly. He shook his head.

“Not now.” _Compartmentalize,_ he thought. _It’s not…_ He thought of Bucky. But he’d saved Bucky, he _had,_ (until he hadn’t). How was he supposed to _compartmentalize_ and _stay calm_ , but he didn’t know how to stop trying, and he should have seen the distraction- “Tony,” Steve said. His voice sounded strange, not like his own. “Can you track…”

“Already running it,” Tony said. There was a strange note in his voice Steve declined to decipher. Natasha was guiding the Quinjet in toward the tower. There wasn’t smoke issuing from it, or any outward sign of a disturbance.

“It’s probably fine,” Clint said, his voice rough and tense. “Come on. This is Loki we’re talking about. He can take care of himself.”

Except Loki had been surprised, and Doom had trapped him before, and Steve’s stomach kept trying to sink further. He kept his eyes forward and tried to keep his breathing even, but he kept thinking _he trusted you to keep him safe._ “Clint,” Natasha said, lowly. They were all looking at him, Steve could feel it.

“Preliminary scans show no signature matching that of Loki,” JARVIS said. _He’s gone,_ whispered something at the back of Steve’s head. _Loki’s gone and you’re probably never going to find him._

Steve took a deep breath and made himself focus. “First things first,” he made himself say, though it felt mechanical. “We need to land this plane.”

* * *

Glass crunched under his feet, and all Steve could think was that Loki would be so angry about the mess when he came back, because he _would_ come home. Steve would not let himself doubt that.

There was a faint smell of burnt hair in the air, pages scattered on the floor from a mangled book. Steve picked it up. _The Silmarillion._ Loki had been entranced by the other works he’d read by Tolkien. Steve had just started reading _The Hobbit_ at his persistent urging.

 _It’s fine,_ some part of Steve’s brain murmured. _You don’t even know that – he might not even be –he could have just taken off until it was safe._

Something caught his eye, and he walked over to find one of Loki’s slender knives buried in the wall. He pulled it out, carefully, stomach churning, and then turned. Thor was standing in the middle of the room, looking out the broken windows, perfectly still.

“Thor,” Steve said, carefully, and watched his shoulders shudder, slightly.

“I should not have stopped,” Thor said lowly. “I should have hunted Doom down and torn him apart with my bare hands.” His voice was toneless, eerily flat. Steve kept his eyes on him even as he bent down to pick up a picture that had fallen off the wall. It was one of his sketches, Steve realized dully. Thor took a sharp breath in. “He was supposed to be _safe_ here.”

“He’s not-” Steve swallowed. “We’ll get him back, Thor.” _How,_ demanded the practical part of his brain. SHIELD would never authorize…

_SHIELD will just have to deal._

“Of course we will,” Thor said, and Steve was a little startled at his almost offended certainty. “But in what state? And if Loki believes he is not safe here-” He broke off, and turned in a whirl of his cape. “I must go to find him. I cannot wait-”

“Thor-” Steve broke off. “How?” he asked, though every part of him wanted to say _yes, go, do it, and take me with you._ “How are you going to find him? We have no idea-”

“I can begin by tearing Latveria apart,” Thor rumbled, his eyes sparking and a few flickers of lightning dancing around Mjolnir’s head.

Steve squeezed his eyes closed. “We can’t.”

“ _You_ cannot,” Thor said, voice taut. “I, however-”

“The US is technically at peace with Latveria,” Steve forced out. “You’re an agent of the Avengers, which is – at least sort of – a US organization. If you go charging in there – it’s potentially an act of war, and Doom’s army can do whatever they like to you-”

“They can try!” Thor said, voice rising rapidly toward a bellow. Steve bit the inside of his cheek, hard. Why did this have to be his job, why did _he_ have to be the one to _act reasonable_ when all he wanted to do was follow Thor and dig up every hole Doom had ever stuck his nose in-

“Thor,” Steve said, his voice strained. “Listen to me, we have to think about this-”

“Do you not _care?_ ” Thor shouted, taking a step toward Steve, and it was an effort not to step back. “When you were taken, Loki would not stay _still_ until you were brought back safely, and now that he is you would stand here telling me that I must _think?_ My brother – whom you claim to love - is in the hands of a monster and you would have me _stand down?_ ”

That – hurt. Deeply. Steve’s temper snapped. “Of _course_ I care!” he yelled, taking a step in Thor’s direction now, hands balled into fists at his sides. “But _I_ have to think _reasonably,_ I can’t just lose my head, don’t you think I _want_ to just – go haring off and get him out of there? But _I can’t._ Because I have to think of the _team_ , because I’m the _leader_ and I’m supposed to keep a level head! Andnot just for your sake, or mine, or anyone’s, but for Loki too, because if we do this wrong don’t you think Doom’s got something set up to take us off the table? And there’s always – if we push him too hard I’m not sure Loki’s not just as valuable to him _dead!_ ”

Thor blinked, and then seemed to deflate. “Steven,” he said, face falling. “I am sorry. I should not have…”

 _No, you shouldn’t have,_ Steve wanted to snap. _I know he’s your brother but he’s my,_ but instead he just shook his head jerkily. “Don’t worry about it,” he said stiffly. “Let’s just – we need to focus. The others will have landed now, we need to talk to them.”

“I know you care for Loki,” Thor said, and Steve winced and wished he could tell Thor to stop talking, but his throat felt dry. “And he knows as well. I only…it feels as though I was just beginning to get him back.”

 _He should have been fine,_ Steve thought.

“Captain Rogers, Thor,” came JARVIS’s voice from the ceiling, and both of them looked up sharply. “Mr. Stark and the others are meeting in conference room 5, floor 9.”

Steve looked around the room, slowly. “Did you see anything else in here?” he asked. “Any clues, any…”

Thor shook his head. “I did not.”

“Come on,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “Let’s go talk to the others. We’ll get this figured out, Thor. And we’ll bring him back.” _In one piece?_ whispered the doubt in the back of his mind, and Steve pushed it ruthlessly down. Loki was a survivor. He had to believe that he’d hold on. If he hadn’t already escaped on his own, and maybe he had, maybe he was on his way back, maybe he’d reappear in the middle of the night in Steve’s room, just like old times.

Steve opted for the stairs, keeping a half an eye on Thor, but at least for the moment the storm seemed to have blown itself out, leaving him just looking despondent and worried. “Perhaps if I went to Heimdall,” he offered. “If…if Loki cannot use his magic, he would not be hidden from his sight. Is that not so?”

Steve brightened slightly. “Maybe,” he said. “That way at least we’d know where he was, and maybe we could get someone in covertly.” He pushed the door open onto the ninth floor and stepped out into the hallway. “Would he do that?”

“Heimdall is a friend,” Thor said. “He would help me, I am sure of it.”

Steve tapped on the door to CR5, and opened it in the middle of Clint yelling, “—to be fucking kidding me!”

Steve stopped in the doorway, Thor just behind him. “What,” he started to ask, but Clint was already whirling on him.

“Are you planning some kind of _rescue mission_ for that bastard?” he asked, and Steve felt Thor tense behind him. He took a breath through his nose.

“We have a responsibility,” Steve started to say, but Clint wheezed a harsh laugh and cut him off.

“Oh, _fuck_ no! Don’t pull that line this time. We do _not_ have any responsibility to go chasing one supervillain into another supervillain’s lair.”

“Hey, Clint,” Bruce said. “Maybe now’s not…”

“Not the time? Then when?” Clint ran a hand through his hair. “You cannot seriously be considering pulling Avengers resources for this shit.”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snapping. He _knew_ Clint had every reason to feel the way he did. He couldn’t fault him for it. Couldn’t expect him to feel otherwise. But he still… “If nothing else,” he said, hearing the strain in his own voice. “Loki is our prisoner-”

“Is he? Last I checked it wasn’t exactly _protocol_ to start relationships with prisoners.”

“He is my brother,” Thor said, sounding like he was restraining himself from saying more. Clint’s eyes cut to him, briefly.

“Yeah, and I’m sorry, but he’s _yours._ Not mine. And what if this was planned, huh?” Clint asked, voice harsh. “What if the two of them set this up, has that occurred to _anybody_ else?”

There was a low rumble of thunder outside. “Mind how you speak,” Thor said. “Your grievance is understandable, but-”

“But _nothing,_ ” Clint hissed. “Is this what the Avengers do now? Just because Captain America is _fucking_ him doesn’t mean anything’s changed. What better way to get close to your enemies-”

“Hawkeye,” Steve said, emphasizing the name. “You’re out of line.”

“Why?” Clint asked, his eyes on Steve hard. “I haven’t said anything, all this time, but am I really the only one who’s thinking that we might all have been played here? And _especially_ you, Cap, you’re so far off of seeing straight I don’t know what you’re looking at.”

Steve felt his hands clench. “My judgment’s exactly as good as it’s always been. I’m not naïve, and I’m not the only one who’s biased here!”

“Hell yes, I’m biased!” Clint snapped. “The guy _rearranged my brain,_ I think I have the fucking _right_ to be a little _biased._ ” He looked around the table. “What about the rest of you? Do you seriously think-”

Tony, for once, didn’t hasten to answer. Bruce appeared to be focused on his breathing, and Natasha was watching Clint. “It’s not just about Loki,” Tony said eventually. “If Doom and Loki are working together, that’s – bad news bears, and if Doom’s trying to hijack Loki’s magic, that’s also a pretty substantial problem. We can’t ignore it. But – Steve,” Tony made a face. “I’ve been running a few more scans, and it’s not…totally clear that the disturbance was external.” Steve felt his chest go a little cold. “And there’s no definite proof this was Doom, either. It’s not like he signed his work.”

“What are you saying,” Steve made himself ask.

“We don’t have anything to work with,” Tony said, bluntly. “Doom could have Loki anywhere. If this is even Doom. And without proof…”

“I will ask Heimdall,” Thor said, at once.

“Word of omniscient god doesn’t really fly in the international community,” Natasha murmured, the first words she’d spoken. “Even if we know where he is, a hostile move against a sovereign ruler…”

“Then we need something covert,” Bruce said.

Clint slammed his hands on the table. “Is no one listening to me?” He snarled. “There is no _we._ I should go straight to fucking _SHIELD_ and get you all put on lockdown-”

“Okay, now _that’s_ out of line,” Tony said, “and I was with you up to that point-”

“I _won’t,_ ” Clint said, but his eyes switched to Tony. “If you were with me why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I’m trying to be tactful, since you took the asshole of the room job,” Tony said. He glanced at Steve, and looked faintly pained. “Look – I’m not saying _do nothing,_ like I said, that would be stupid. But Clint’s got a point. It could be a trap.”

Steve heard a rumble of thunder outside. His head was starting to throb. “He came after _me,_ ” he said. “Are you forgetting that? When I was in trouble-”

Clint laughed, a harsh bark that sounded like it was dragged over his throat. “Is the sex really that good?” he asked, blunt and Steve _knew_ Clint was just lashing out but it still felt like a punch in the chest, and then Thor was shoving him aside.

“I will let you malign my brother because he did you a grievous wrong,” Thor said, and his voice was thunder to echo the flash of lightning outside, “but I will _not_ let you smear the honor of Steve Rogers-” Clint’s whole body went tense and he took a step back, eyes widening a notch as his hand went instinctively for a weapon.

“Whoa, whoa, guys,” Bruce said, “can everyone just – calm down a notch here?” Steve closed his eyes and planted his feet.

“Agent Barton,” he said, and his voice came out sounding alarmingly harsh, not like his own. “Out.”

Both Clint and Thor jerked, turned to look at him. “What,” Clint started to say. Steve jerked his head to the side.

“I said, out. We’ll talk later. No decision will be made on this matter without your input.” The words came to him almost alarmingly easily, formal and stiff. “Right now, you’re creating a hostile environment. You need to cool off.”

Clint stared at him. “Cap,” he said, in a slightly more moderate tone of voice. Steve just looked at him, and he whirled and stalked for the door with a “ _fine._ ”

“Thor,” Steve said, “you too. Go…go see what you can find out from Heimdall. Regardless of course of action, the more we know, the better.”

“Steven,” Thor said, a low rumble.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, and meant it. “But right now…”

Thor went. Using the other door. Steve took the few steps to the table and sank into a chair, his shoulders slumping. He hoped the two of them would talk, maybe. He couldn’t…couldn’t let them fall apart over this.

“Whoa,” Tony said. “Hot.”

Steve pressed his fingers to his temples. “Not now, Tony. Can we – go over everything we _do_ know?” He could feel Natasha watching him now.

“What are we going to tell SHIELD?” she asked, her voice still startlingly calm. Steve was relieved, though, that whatever she thought about all of this she was keeping it under control. “I can try to keep the fact that Loki’s gone from them, but Fury’ll figure it out eventually, and he won’t be happy.”

His brain kept going back around to _we need to find Loki, get him out, bring him back_ and he was having a hard time clearing that away long enough to focus on the _how._ “Tell him…I don’t know.” Steve took a deep breath and rested his elbows on the table. He wished he hadn’t sent Thor out. He wished Loki would just turn up now with that wicked grin, _Doom could never hope to catch me twice._

“Steve,” Bruce said quietly. “We’ll figure this out.”

 _How,_ he wanted to snap, or _how long will it take and how much will be left of Loki by then_ , or _I should have seen that it was a trap, I’m supposed to_ protect _people._ He made himself nod and drew himself up, pulling on Captain America like the suit. It was his job to keep it together. His job to be the leader, even when it was hard. “I know,” he said, and hoped it sounded convincing. “Tony – start from the top.”

* * *

He didn’t want to retreat to his room after they finally broke up for the day. Tony promised to keep JARVIS hunting for Loki’s energy signature – or Doom’s – and Bruce gave him a sympathetic, if tight, smile. “For now, that’s all we can do,” Steve made himself say. “Hopefully Thor will have news for us soon. And then – and then we can figure out our next course of action.”

“You know,” Tony began, and then stopped, and just muttered something inaudible and left the room in a hurry.

Steve went to Loki’s floor and started cleaning up.  

It was like after a battle, he thought. Like if he put Loki’s space back in order, maybe…

At least he could clean it up a little. Something would have to be done about the windows, though. The glass in every one was shattered. If they couldn’t prove Doom had done this...

He remembered being angry with Loki for a little while over the magical tracker he’d apparently planted on Steve, though Loki pointed out unapologetically that it was the reason he’d been able to find him quickly. And if Sin had had him longer…

Steve twitched the memories off and started wiping up glass with a wet paper towel. Now he wished Loki had something similar. Something that would let _them_ find him. If Doom was masking Loki’s energy – or if Loki was, Steve thought with a jolt. Even then, though, Heimdall should be able to see him. It would be _fine._

_He trusted us (me) to keep him safe. If that’s not the case anymore – what if he doesn’t stay? Or – if Doom didn’t catch him at all and he just left because it’s not safe?_

He wouldn’t, Steve told himself firmly. That wasn’t the only reason Loki was here, and hadn’t been for a long time – if ever.

“You know I have bots for shit like this, right?”

Steve felt his shoulders stiffen as he stood up and walked over to the trash can, throwing away another paper towel full of glass. “That’s not the point.”

“So is this like an OCD thing or…”

“Tony-” Steve shook his head and started on the counter. “I’m not really in the mood right now.”

“Huh. What a surprise.” He heard Tony fidget. “Look…sorry about the meeting. That got out of hand really fast.”

“You agreed with Clint,” Steve said, making his voice neutral. He turned around, leaning on the counter. Tony avoided his gaze, instead looking around the suite.

“So this is what…wow. Love what he’s done with the decorating. Well, I mean, other than the whole-”

“Tony,” Steve said, feeling tired. Tony grimaced.

“Can you let the cleaning bots take care of this and come downstairs? I’m not really into the ‘unwelcome’ vibe when you-know-who’s not even here.”

“His name is Loki,” Steve said evenly, “and no.”

Tony gave him a faint scowl, and then fidgeted again. “It’s not that I think you’re stupid, Steve,” he said, finally.

“Thank you,” Steve said, dry, and didn’t move.

“You know, sometimes I forget how sarcastic you can be. Is that new? No, not new, okay, just checking. Anyway. It’s just that-” Tony made a face. “It’s _Loki,_ Steve. You know, the whole reason we’re here in the first place, remember? And it’s great that you’re getting laid and everything-” Steve felt his face heat up but didn’t let his expression shift. “—but it’s still…” He trailed off.

Steve pressed his lips together. “So,” he said, “you think we should – _I_ should – just let Doom strip him down for spare parts?”

“Wow,” Tony said, “you really – not pulling your punches with the metaphors there -”

“And do you remember,” Steve interrupted, “the reason Doom’s after him in the first place? Because Loki gave us intel that potentially saved our skins. This – the fact that I’m going with Loki – might be a big joke to you-”

“It’s a joke that you just said ‘going with,’” Tony said, and Steve shot him a glare that shut him up.

“—but I’m serious,” he finished. “And if that means I have to figure out how to get Loki back _alone,_ so be it!”

“Steve,” Tony said, starting to frown.

“I mean it,” Steve said. He rubbed his forehead. “Tony…he’s not the same. You haven’t talked to him, you wouldn’t know, but he’s changed. He trusts me.”

“I have, actually,” Tony said. Steve frowned at him, and Tony waved a hand. “No, I was just saying. It’s not a big deal, it was a while back, pretty brief conversation, really.”

Steve crossed his arms. “You never mentioned that.”

“Yeah, well.” He grimaced. “Not one of my finer moments. I told him not to mess with you. Attempted threats, you know.”

Steve felt a little bit of anger, but he quashed it quickly. “I really _can_ take care of myself,” he said. “Despite what you seem to think. I’m not stupid, as you so generously allowed. I didn’t just – run starry-eyed into Loki’s arms.”

“ _There’s_ a mental image,” Tony said. “I know, I mean – I guess. But he is a slippery bastard and you’re...” Tony made a vague gesture. “Not. Shit. I don’t know. I’m not going to just let you go romping off into Doom’s lair alone, though.”

Steve summoned a smile. “Thanks.” He hesitated, and then asked, almost nervous, “what did he do? Loki, I mean.”

“Oh,” Tony said, and grimaced again. “He laughed at me and shut the door in my face.” Steve felt his mouth twitch. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Tony muttered. “Seriously though, let the bots clear this. You can have…okay, not a drink. A lemonade? Whatever one gives someone whose, uh, ex-supervillain boyfriend has just been Doom-napped.” Steve felt even the start of the smile dim.

“No,” he said, “thanks, but I started up here. I’m going to finish.” _Besides,_ he cut himself off before adding. _Loki likes everything a certain way. I don’t want anything put back wrong._

“Okay,” Tony said, after a long pause. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Tony turned around, but he stopped before exiting. “Oh, right – Katniss went to his own place. If you’re looking for him.”

After the door closed, Steve set down the framed sketch with its cracked glass and let his head rest against the wall. A part of him wanted to scream and yell and break things, like Thor had. The rest of him was too clear on how much that would accomplish. Loki wasn’t – wasn’t _dead_ (couldn’t be, he would _not_ fail him too) and that meant there was still work to do.

* * *

Steve stood outside Clint’s door, taking a few moments to collect himself and figure out what he was going to say. Before he had quite figured it out, or raised his hand to knock, Clint opened the door with a jerk and looked up at him with a flat-eyed stare.

“So,” Clint said, “is this where you lecture me on having a little humanity?”

A part of Steve _wanted_ to. A part of him wanted to demand if he could really condemn someone to torture and death _that easily_ but he held that back. “No,” he said, instead. “Can I come in?”

Clint looked at him for a long moment, and then grunted. “Sure.” He stepped back and Steve walked in. The apartment reminded him more of his old home, the dingy little room he’d lived in with his mother, than anything else.

“Can I sit down?” He asked, and when Clint nodded, took a seat. Clint stayed standing. He looked tense and uneasy. “I’m not here to chew you out,” he said, after a moment. Clint’s mouth twisted.

“No?”

“No,” Steve said. “You’re always allowed to doubt – to question me. Well, maybe not in the middle of a firefight, but-”

“Then if you’re not here to chew me out why are you here?” Clint asked, and then added hastily, “I’m not changing my mind.”

 _He’s been here for almost a year,_ Steve wanted to say. _What do you think he’s going to do?_ He kept that to himself too. “I just want to talk. To you.”

Clint’s expression did not get appreciably less wary. “Yeah? What about?”

“About…” Steve sighed. Calm, he reminded himself. Calm and rational and fair. “Everything you said…you must have had doubts about this for a while.”

The look Clint gave him was incredulous. “Doubts about – of fucking _course_ I had doubts about it! I’ve had ‘doubts’ from the beginning, and I never wanted him here.”

“But you agreed,” Steve said, slowly.

“Yeah, for _you,_ ” Clint said, and Steve wanted to wince. “And for Thor,” he added. “But I didn’t – I didn’t think it would work. Or last. Or – for fuck’s sake, I didn’t think you’d start _sleeping_ with the bastard!”

Steve bit down on the inside of his cheek. _He’s changed,_ he wanted to protest, as he had to Tony. _He’s not the same as he was then, you don’t know._ “Neither did I,” he said, honestly. “But…”

“So you can see how I might be a little, I don’t know, _alarmed_ by that development? And not exactly enthused about haring off on a rescue mission for a guy I’m pretty sure is planning to screw us all over – _especially_ you?”

Steve squeezed his eyes shut. “Can’t you trust me that he won’t? That I’m smart enough – that I care about the team enough – not to do anything I think would risk my friends?”

“I believe you wouldn’t do anything you think would risk your friends,” said Clint, with the slightest emphasis. “But I also know…” He turned around and paced. “I can’t help it. I can’t help but look at you and feel like I have to wonder if you’ve been compromised, if he’s-”

“I haven’t been brainwashed,” Steve said, a little more sharply than he meant to. “Give me more credit than that. And I haven’t been – seduced out of my brain, either. I can still _think,_ and just because I care about him-”

“That’s _it,_ though,” Clint said, sudden and harsh. “It doesn’t have to be – brainwashing or seduction or something like that. It can be so much more – I _know_ this, okay? And _him –_ when he was in my head,” Clint’s voice wavered, just slightly, but he pushed on. “When he was in my head, there was a little bit of bleedback, right? I got some of his, too. I know _exactly_ how twisted up it is in there, the ways he thinks, double and triple layers of plans and ideas and backups. Maybe he does like you, I don’t know. But does he like you enough not to betray you to save his own sorry hide?”

Steve wanted to snap and took a deep breath through his nose to keep himself from doing so. “He’s been here a _year,_ ” he said, finally. “And nothing’s gone wrong. _Nothing._ Don’t you think maybe it’s possible that he’s-”

“Changed?” Clint interrupted. His voice was bitter, brutally sardonic. “ _Gotten better?_ ”

Steve felt himself tense. “Why not?”

“Because that’s not – that’s not how it _happens,_ ” Clint said, his voice turning harsh.

“Isn’t it?” Steve pressed. “Isn’t that how it was for Natasha? Even for you? For _Tony?_ If someone has a reason to change-”

“None of us tried to take over the goddamn _Earth,_ Steve!” Clint nearly shouted, whirling around mid-pace, a tic twitching in his jaw.

Steve rubbed his forehead. _Stay calm,_ he reminded himself, but it was getting harder and harder to do that. He could almost feel time slipping away, and who knew what…he was supposed to be the reasonable one, here. He wasn’t feeling terribly reasonable. “Clint,” he said, carefully. “I know you hate him, but-”

“I don’t,” Clint said, harshly. Steve stared at him blankly, and Clint scrubbed a hand roughly through his hair, not looking at Steve. “I don’t hate him.”

“It’s okay,” Steve made himself say. “You have every right-”

“ _No,_ ” Clint snapped. “You don’t get it, I _know_ I have every right, but I _don’t._ I should. I _wish_ I did. But it’s not – it’s not _like_ that. I can’t hate him. You think I haven’t tried? But god, it’s like – every time I look at him or think about him it’s like he’s in my head all over again and all I want to do is what’ll make him happy so that – _fuck._ Cap-”

Steve felt sick. He hadn’t asked. He’d never asked, because he’d been scared to. “I’m sorry,” he said, finally, and Clint made a disgusted noise.

“Don’t,” he said, flatly. “I know there’s something wrong with me. There’s a reason I don’t talk about this shit. He fucked with me. He’s still fucking with me. How am I supposed to risk my life saving him when thinking his goddamn _name_ gives me the shivers and I don’t know if it’s because I want to cut out his heart or – something else.” Clint was breathing hard, and not looking at Steve, his fists clenched at his sides. “There. Are you happy?”

“No,” Steve said heavily. “I’m not.” Clint’s jaw tightened, and then he let out a long breath and seemed to force his fists to unclench. He grimaced.

“Jesus, Cap. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve…” He trailed off.

“No,” Steve said heavily. “No, it’s…fine. I understand.” And he did, sort of. He didn’t want to, but he did. And he wasn’t sure what to do with that understanding, because it didn’t – change anything about the way he felt.  

“At the meeting,” Clint said, after a moment. “I flipped out.”

Steve felt his mouth twitch. “I noticed,” he said, dryly. Clint looked like he wanted to wince. “It’s…” Not fine. Nothing was fine. “I…once I know where he is…you don’t have to deal with it. I can…take care of this one.” Clint gave him a startled look, and Steve forced himself to smile. “It wouldn’t be my first time sneaking into enemy territory.”

Clint grimaced at him. “Aw, man, Cap. Do you have to be so – so fucking _upstanding?_ You make me feel bad.”

“I get it,” Steve said, slowly. “Needing to draw a line. For yourself, if nothing else. I just – _I_ just – can’t let Loki be a casualty. Because – right or wrong, I care too much. And even if I didn’t – I couldn’t leave anyone to torture like the kind we know Doom is capable of.” Steve pushed himself to his feet. “I won’t ask you to participate in this.”

“But you’re going to do it anyway,” Clint said. He sounded tired.

“Yes,” Steve agreed. “I’m going to do it anyway.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Clint.”

Clint made a strangled sound that was not quite a laugh. “ _You’re_ sorry.”

Steve looked at him steadily. “That I – if you feel like I betrayed your trust.”

“I don’t-” Clint made a face. “It’s not you, Cap. It’s him. You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t…who you are. You’d be evil mirror Cap, and I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’d look great with a goatee.” Steve had long since given up on trying to identify the various references Tony and Clint threw around, and he let this one go, too.

“I should go,” he said instead. “Wait for news.”

“Yeah,” Clint said. “Okay.” Steve turned for the door just as he interrupted. “Hey, Steve – keep me updated.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, and made himself smile again, though he didn’t feel much like it. “Yeah, of course.”

* * *

“Is Thor back?” Steve asked at once when he reached the tower.

“No, sir,” JARVIS answered. “And scan results have so far been negative. Mr. Stark is attempting some alternative algorithms.”

“Make sure he sleeps, all right?” Steve said, with a sigh, though he knew there wasn’t much the A.I. – or anyone – could do. “Everyone else?”

“Agent Romanov is in the training room. Dr. Banner is in his personal lab. Meditating, I believe.”

Steve nodded, remembered that JARVIS couldn’t see, added, “thanks, JARVIS,” and then remembered that JARVIS had cameras. He felt distracted, muddled, tense. But he didn’t want to face Natasha right now. Even after what she’d said on the plane…

He was afraid he might snap at the next person to suggest that Loki might have betrayed them, might be in league with Doom, might be, might be. None of them had seen the look on Loki’s face when Doom had come looking for him after the first time. None of them had woken up in bed with Loki when he was curled up and shivering and had to be coaxed out of memories a little at a time.

So he went to his room instead. He pulled out his sketchbook, intending to draw, but he was too tense and just ended up breaking the charcoal pencil he tried.

He felt helpless. _Useless._ When he’d been taken, Loki had been able to find him in minutes with his magic, but with Loki gone – there was nothing he could do. Just wait, and try to keep his brain from coming up with worst case scenario after worst case scenario.

He jumped up at a knock on the door. “Who is it?” he asked, quickly, abandoning his still open but untouched sketchbook.

“It’s Bruce,” he heard through the door, after a moment. “Can I come in?”

Not Thor. Thor must not be back yet. Steve walked over and opened the door. “Course,” he said. “Come in – JARVIS said you were in your lab.”

“I was,” Bruce said, “but I wasn’t getting much of anywhere.” He examined Steve awkwardly, sidelong, not quite looking directly at him. “Thinking too much.”

“That’s where I was with trying to sketch,” Steve said ruefully. “Sorry – um. Do you want some tea, anything…”

“No,” Bruce said, “no, I’m good.” He paused, and cleared his throat. “You seem to be taking this pretty well.”

Steve glanced at his desk. “Do I?”

“Mmmhm,” Bruce said, shifting slightly. Steve tried not to tense.

“And?”

“Are you?” Bruce’s voice was quiet and unassuming as ever, but when Steve looked up at him his eyes were keen and attentive. Steve straightened his back and drew his chin up.

“I’m fine,” he said, firmly. “I’m perfectly capable of-”

“Steve,” Bruce said, strangely scolding, and it made Steve start. Bruce looked around, found a chair, and sat down in it. “I’m not trying to – trap you, or anything. That’s not my thing. You’re allowed to be upset.”

 _Am I?_ Steve wanted to ask, dryly. _Won’t that just make me look compromised? And someone has to be the reasonable one. The leader. That’s me, it’s always me._ He looked at Bruce, and Bruce looked back, and then looked away.

“I walked in, you know,” he said, suddenly. “I was going to check on you, after – the thing with HYDRA. Loki was already there, sitting next to you, and the way he looked at me-” Bruce laughed, quietly. “It was like he thought I was going to sound the alarm, you know? Just on account of him sitting there, holding your hand. So I left, and when I came back a couple hours later he was gone again.” Bruce shrugged. “I just figured he was there for the same reason I was. Making sure you were all right.”

Steve swallowed hard. There was a lump in his throat, it felt like. “Bruce…”

“Loki cares about you. A lot.” Bruce was looking at his shoes. “That’s good enough for me to at least give him a chance.” He turned his head and looked at Steve. “So are you okay?”

Steve took a deep breath. His chest felt tight. “I will be,” he said, at length. “Once we get him back.”

Bruce nodded, after a moment, rubbing his hands on his pants. “I’ve got the medical bay set up. And if I’m not enough – I know a few people who I can call, who are discreet.” Steve didn’t want to think about how bad it could be, but he made himself nod.

“I wish there was something _I_ could do,” burst out of him. Bruce looked awkward, scratched at the side of his neck.

“Give Thor a little time,” he said, after a moment. “I’m pretty sure that soon you’ll have more than enough to handle.” Bruce’s pocket buzzed, and he pulled out his phone and glanced at it. “Tony’s calling me to be a sounding board for some ideas.”

Steve tried to smile. “Go ahead. See if he can beat Thor.”

He waited until Bruce left to put his face in his hands and take a shuddering breath. He could feel every second passing. _It’s only been hours,_ he reminded himself, but then, _it’s been hours,_ and there was no way of knowing how much time they had, what might be happening. Or if they’d already run out of time. 

No. That – that, he wouldn’t believe. Not a _damned_ chance.

* * *

Steve paced.

He didn’t know what else to do with himself. He tried sketching a little more, but all of it came out awful or nightmarish. He couldn’t stop thinking about what might be happening, what Loki might be going through. About all the things he _couldn’t_ do, and the whispering voice in the back of his head that he was always going to fail the people he cared about like this. Trying to push that away, trying to _silence_ it, wasn’t working as well as he needed it to.

Everything seemed to be taking so long, moving so slowly, and he needed it to be _now,_ to be moving, to _do_ something.

So when he heard the rumble of thunder overhead, accompanied by a flash of light, Steve didn’t hesitate before he was sprinting up the stairs.

“-wish you wouldn’t do that on my building,” Tony was saying as he burst out onto the room. “That doesn’t rub off, you know.”

“Thor,” Steve gasped, searching his face, but he could feel his stomach drop even before Thor answered at the frustration and anger that was visible there.

“Heimdall can see nothing,” he said. “I asked him to search for any signs, but – he confirmed that it was indeed Doom to attack the Tower while we were away, but then he and Loki both disappeared from his sight.”

Tony’s mouth screwed up. “Some kind of cloaking device?”

“It would need to be powerful indeed to trick Heimdall,” Thor said.

“Or else he figured out how to duplicate Loki’s trick,” Bruce said. Steve thought his eyes flicked briefly in his direction.

“Can’t he look for – some kind of blind spot?” Steve asked. He could hear the desperation in his own voice. “Something…”

Thor shook his head. “I asked as much. He said – it is not as though he cannot see them. It is as though they were never there.” Steve’s heart felt heavy, and his shoulders sagged. He could see Thor’s jaw tighten. “I am sorry – I am sorry I do not bring better news.”

Steve just saw Bruce and Tony leave out of the corner of his eye, their heads bent together talking. He stepped over to Thor and laid a hand on his arm, swallowing the lump in his throat. “It’s fine,” he said, with effort. “We’ll – we’ll figure out something else.” He felt Thor’s arm tense.

“How long,” Thor demanded, his voice like gravel. “How long will it take? What will have happened to Loki by then? And what if he thinks…” he trailed off, but Steve could guess the end of that sentence easily enough, _what if he thinks we’ve given up on him. What if he thinks no one is coming._

“We’ll get there,” Steve said, stubbornly, though the words stuck in his throat a little. “Thor, we’ll figure out where he is, somehow, and we’ll get him back. And he’s – you know how strong he is. How stubborn. He’ll-” His voice hitched, just slightly. “He’ll be fine.”

Thor turned, and his expression crumbled from anger to something softer. “Oh, Steve, my friend…I am sorry. I have been so focused on myself, and you-” Thor bowed his head. “You must be as upset by this as I am. He is your lover.”

Steve’s smile felt stretched, forced. “Someone has to keep calm.”

“And that someone must be you?” Thor said, with too much understanding. Steve almost felt himself shake. _I have to,_ he almost said. _If I fall apart now I don’t know what I’ll do._

“I can help more like this,” Steve said. “Do more.” _Even though you’re not doing anything._ He made himself take a deep breath. Thor’s gaze softened, and he stepped over and rested his hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“Even if you were only saying it for my sake,” Thor said, “I believe you. We will find Loki and Doom will rue the day he trifled with us – and with him. And Loki will in short order only be angry that we took his vengeance for him.”

Steve wanted to object, wanted to say that they weren’t going to take _any_ vengeance, but he wasn’t sure he could make that promise. Not when he kept thinking about all the awful possibilities, everything that _could_ be happening.

“Yeah,” Steve said, making himself nod. “Yeah, of course.”

Thor gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You look tired, my friend. Perhaps you should rest.”

“I tried,” Steve said, more clipped than he meant it to be. The look Thor gave him was concerned, and Steve felt his shoulders inch up. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about me, all right? Let’s just focus on finding Loki.”

Thor’s shoulders slumped. “But how,” he said, voice turning a little heavy. “How can we find him?”

Steve didn’t have a good answer for that.

* * *

Steve sparred with Thor until they were both bruised and exhausted. He went to his room to sleep, but after a moment of just standing in the doorway turned and went to the eleventh floor instead and slept in Loki’s room. It smelled like him, and he slept fitfully for a few hours.

He asked JARVIS every time he woke if there was any news. There wasn’t.

 _What if there never is,_ Steve thought, feeling suddenly cold. _What if days turn into weeks turn into months and we don’t find him, we never find him, and next time Doom pops up there’s green magic at his fingertips, or else we just find a body-_

He felt sick. _Powerfully_ sick. “No,” he said aloud, to the empty room. “That’s not going to happen.”

Steve rolled out of bed and took the stairs back to his room at a jog, his heart thudding a little too fast. He changed quickly into running clothes, even remembered to grab his phone and make sure it was charged.

He looked up sharply from tying on his tennis shoes at the slightest creak of a floorboard, half expecting – and was angry with himself for his disappointment when he saw it was Natasha. “What,” he said, trying to make himself relax, “is everyone going to do a check up on me individually or something? I can keep it together.”

“I know.” Her voice was quiet, posture relaxed, but Steve knew better than to think that necessarily meant anything.

“What do you want,” he said, and couldn’t quite feel bad about how rude it came out. “If it’s another lecture…”

“I’m not going to lecture you.” Natasha straightened up from where she was leaning against the doorframe. “Come on, finish putting on your shoes. Let’s go for a walk.”

Both of them stayed quiet as they walked down the stairs, and Steve held his silence for a ways once they were outside as well. It was Natasha who broke it, eventually. “I’m impressed,” she said. “I was expecting you to do something reckless.”

Steve glanced down. He almost wished he had. Wished he could have, that his mind didn’t keep reminding him of all of the reasons that he couldn’t. “What would you have done if I did?”

Natasha shrugged. “That would depend on how reckless it was.” She gave him a sidelong look. “What stopped you?”

“I have to think about – you guys,” Steve said. “The Avengers. And everyone. I can’t just do what I want to do. And I do want to,” he added. “If I could just go charging into Latveria…but I can’t.”

Natasha pressed her lips together. “I’m glad you’re being smart about this,” she said, tucking her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Not everyone could be.”

I don’t _want_ to be, a part of Steve wanted to snap. I _want_ to be able to just – to just _go._ I don’t want to be the smart one, the reasonable one, the calm one. I want to be able to _act._ “I talked to Clint,” he mumbled, to change the subject. Natasha’s eyebrows went up.

“How did that go?”

“Not badly,” Steve said. “I…understand his concern.”

“But it doesn’t change anything for you.”

“No,” Steve said, a little more firmly. “It doesn’t. I see – a different Loki than he does. And I can’t just forget that, or ignore that, and even if I could I would never leave him with Doom-” He realized that the corner of Natasha’s mouth seemed to be twitching, and his eyes narrowed. “What?”

“I’m not arguing with you, Steve,” she said, quietly. “Whatever my personal feelings on this whole…thing, I’m not going to try to turn you around on it.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, though it came out sounding a little more bitter than he meant. “At least you don’t seem convinced that I’m just fooling myself.”

“You’re idealistic. That doesn’t mean you’re naïve.” Natasha combed her fingers through her hair. “There is a difference.”

“I like to think so.” Steve knew he was being less than polite, but he was just – tired, of all of this, tired of having to act like he wasn’t scared and worried and wishing there was something, _anything,_ he could do to move things faster. “Look, Natasha – I have a feeling there’s a point to all this. Can you get to it?”

“There is,” Natasha said. Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at it, then tucked it away. “First of all – I wanted you to know that I talked to SHIELD. I…fudged…a lot of the details, but they’re willing to help.”

Steve stared at her. “How did you get Fury to agree to that?”

Natasha made a face. “I don’t think you’d like the answer to that. Suffice it to say that they’re working on getting us into Latveria.”

Steve felt just a little twinge of relief. He didn’t know how much he really believed SHIELD would help, but at least…maybe they could do something. “Thank you,” he said, more honestly than before. Natasha waved a hand. “Don’t mention it.” She turned, and Steve realized belatedly that they were just walking around the block.

“Are we going somewhere or,” Steve started to ask, but Natasha interrupted.

“Secondly, about this rescue mission.” Steve felt himself tense, but her voice stayed calm. “For your sake, if nothing else, we’re going to follow your lead on this. Even Clint. Whatever play you make, we’ll back it.”

“You’ve been discussing this,” Steve said, feeling a little strange at the idea of all his friends talking behind his back. “You’ve all been…”

“Yes,” Natasha said, simply. “We had to. And it seemed best to do our bickering away from you and Thor.”

“Oh,” Steve said, a little blankly. At least it wasn’t just him, he caught himself thinking. Thor too. That made it a little better, maybe. A moment later he added, “does Thor know all this?”

“Clint’s probably telling him now,” Natasha said. Steve nodded, feeling vaguely unsteady.

“And you,” Steve started, after a moment, though he wasn’t sure how the sentence ended. Natasha stopped, and Steve turned to face her.

“I don’t like him,” Natasha said plainly. “I don’t trust him.”

“Natasha,” Steve said tightly. “I don’t really need-”

“But you do,” she said, cutting him off. “And that’s enough for me. It was enough for me to make the call on sending him after you. If you’re going in, then I want you to know that I’m going with you. It’s been seventy years since your last covert op, and from what I read, it wasn’t that covert anyway.”

Steve gave her a tired smile. “Thank you,” he said, heavily. “But this is all – moot. We still don’t have a clue where Loki is.”

“As of five minutes ago,” Natasha said, quietly, “yes, we do.”

* * *

Steve sprinted up five flights of stairs and almost blew the door off its hinges. “What did you find,” he said, breathless. “Where – how-”

Thor was already there, Steve noticed vaguely, and there was hope visible on his face again. Clint too, in a quiet corner, and he knew Natasha was following.” Tony looked frazzled and exhausted, but he had that gleam in his eye of anticipated victory, too.

“After what Thor said – Loki’s magic, it’s like energy that he gives off, right?” He said. “I was looking for an energy _source_ but it occurred to me that maybe I was thinking the wrong way, so we went looking for an energy sink on the appropriate frequencies and-” Tony pointed, and Steve looked at the map laid out in the air, a spot colored deep red amidst all the blue. “-massive dive, right here. Like something’s sucking everything in. Using a massive amount of energy. Or maybe just trying to hide some. And it’s within Latveria’s borders.”

Steve leaned forward, like he could see something, see _Loki_ just from looking at the virtual map, like he could reach into it and snatch him away. “So you think he’s there?”

“I’d bet on it,” Tony said. His mouth was a grim line. “But…you get what this suggests, right? Doom’s using a massive amount of power. My guess is – to keep Loki’s magic inaccessible. Or else he’s just draining him directly, if magic’s like battery fluid…does that even work…”

Steve’s stomach rolled. “How do we get there,” he demanded, his voice sharp. “If it’s still in Latveria – Doom could call any attack an invasion, a violation of his sovereignty.”

Natasha spoke up. “What if we were invited?”

“By Doom?” Bruce sounded more than just incredulous. Natasha shook her head.

“No. By the Secretary of State, who has just requested a diplomatic visit to Latveria with the Avengers and Iron Patriot as an honor guard.” Five pairs of eyes stared at her, and Natasha shrugged. “SHIELD pulled some strings.”

“Rhodey’s coming?” Tony said, perking up. “I like everything about this much better now.”

Natasha inclined her head. “As the official government presence, yes, though I’d guess he’s only finding that out around now.”

Steve leaned forward on the table. “How does it work? Why would Doom agree to let us in? He has to know that we’d be trying…”

“Maybe,” Natasha allowed. “But he doesn’t know how, or when. Doom’s trying to pass himself off as a legitimate leader, right? That’s how we trap him. He can’t openly antagonize the US without putting his attempts to get Latveria into the EU in jeopardy. And saying the Avengers can’t come as an honor guard looks potentially suspicious. Better to let us in and keep a close eye on us, maybe make the US look bad to boot by making himself the victim of unwarranted hostility implied by our presence.”

Steve stared at her, wondering how long she’d been working that out. Wondering if it would _work._ “What if Doom doesn’t get smoked out,” Bruce asked. “What if he just sends a Doombot to the meeting? Or if he leaves one on guard…”

“That’s one weak spot of the idea,” Natasha admitted. “But I doubt it. He’ll want to keep an eye on us, make sure we don’t try anything, and the best way to be able to respond quickly if something does go wrong is to be there himself. One Doombot can’t deal with the entire team of Avengers. Any guards can be dealt with by the infiltration team; it’s just a matter of avoiding confronting Doom himself directly.”

“It could…actually work,” Tony said, sounding unwillingly impressed.

“Maybe,” Clint said, a little more harsh. “One thing, though – who’s on the Loki rescue team? Because while I’m willing to deal with Doom – because it’s Doom – I’m not going to-”

“You don’t have to,” Steve interrupted. “Me and Natasha are going to go.”

The silence was thunderous. Thor, Steve thought, seemed least surprised. “Is that a good idea?” Bruce asked, eventually.

“I snuck into an enemy camp back in the war to free – a friend,” Steve said, keeping his voice level. “I can do this. And Natasha’s the best of us at infiltration work. The smaller the team the better-”

“Doom’ll notice if Captain America’s missing,” Tony said, sounding a little dubious. “You’re pretty conspicuous.”

“Then mayhap it is our task to see that we keep him so occupied he does not have the chance to consider why it is so,” Thor said, though Steve didn’t think he was imagining the near disappointment in his eyes. Probably at not getting his chance to pummel Doom. Steve felt for him.

“Smoke and mirrors,” Tony said, nodding. “And with Rhodey there, that adds another player for Doom to watch…we can hope he doesn’t attribute too much to just who’s missing. Think we can find anyone of the right body type to stand around and look pretty?”

“What do you think, Cap?” Bruce asked. “It’s a risk.” Steve’s eyes flicked in Clint’s direction, half expecting him to speak up, to object. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t say anything either.

It was a risk, Steve thought. And if it didn’t work – if Doom didn’t take the bait, what then?

His eyes went to the color coded drop in energy Tony had found, mind suddenly filling with all the things that could be hidden behind it. Loki had walked alone into a HYDRA base after him. He wasn’t going to do less.

“A risk I’m willing to take,” Steve said. “If you are.”

* * *

The next day and a half went by in a blur, both too fast and too slow. Steve knew everything was moving as fast as it could, that it took time to arrange diplomatic meetings even with SHIELD’s influence and took time to get Doom to agree, but he couldn’t help but think how long it had been already, _too_ long. Steve could feel his friends watching him through it all. He tried not to let it grate on his nerves, but they were already scraped raw. The others took off to DC in one quinjet, he and Natasha taking the other. The flight seemed to take too long, his body almost vibrating, going over and over the plan in his head, trying not to focus on all the little things that might go wrong. Once they were on the ground, he let Natasha take the lead, operating more on adrenaline than thought.

It was a relief, to let someone else do the thinking, be the level head, and he could follow. Once they were in Doom’s lair, winding through passages following some device Steve had missed the explanation of, his heart was pounding and his palms felt sweaty. He was scared, Steve realized. Not for himself, or Natasha, but of what they might be walking into. Now that they were here, the possibility of the worst-case scenario reared its ugly head, what everyone had been careful to avoid mentioning and what Steve had managed to keep distant.

If Loki was already dead-

Damn international incidents, Steve thought a little wildly. He wouldn’t let that stand.

Steve blinked as they exited the narrow passage they’d been moving through onto a narrow, ledge above a brightly lit room. Steve could see enough to guess that it was some kind of laboratory, though from his angle he couldn’t make out much of the room.  He opened his mouth to ask a question, and then shut it at the sound of a familiar voice. “Unfortunately, it seems I must leave you. I have an important conversation to attend that cannot, apparently, be postponed.” Doom.

Steve felt his whole body tense, rage rising up in his chest. He held himself still with an effort.

“Well,” said Doom after a moment. “I suppose we shall just have to resume this after.” The Secretary of State and the others, Steve thought. Their friends must have arrived, have started their diversion. He strained his ears to listen for a response, but heard nothing. It had to be Loki, though, it _had_ to be. He tried to inch forward, but Natasha’s hand on his arm stopped him. “Doom shall try not to be long. And just when it begins to seem that we are finally getting somewhere.”

Steve felt a growl in his chest and swallowed it hard. _Be long,_ he thought, mouth tightening. _Loki won’t be here when you get back._ Natasha was inching forward silently, creeping toward the edge with a better view. She stopped, and he heard her breathing catch very slightly.

Doom wouldn’t talk to a corpse, Steve told himself desperately. Loki had to be…at least for now…

He heard a door clang shut. Doom leaving. A drop of sweat rolled down the side of Steve’s nose. “Natasha,” he said, lowly, not quite urgently. “Guards?”

She shook her head, still scanning the room. “We’re lucky. Cameras, but I can take them out from here once we get the signal that Doom’s with the others and occupied. That’s not…” She trailed off.

“Loki?”

She drew back from the edge and back to crouch beside him. “Here. He’s…” Natasha’s eyes flicked away, and Steve started toward the edge. She grabbed his arm.

“What,” he said, trying to keep his voice quiet, though it was hard, his stomach starting to churn. “What is it?"

“Steve,” Natasha said quietly, and cut off. “—never mind.” She sounded sick. Steve swallowed hard and edged forward.

At first he couldn’t find Loki in the mess of lab equipment. When he did, he felt his gorge rise. There was blood, so much blood and Steve’s heart sank into his boots, staring at the red cavern of his open chest. He remembered Loki’s words: _my body, for him, is a chest full of secrets if he can only find where to carve it from._ At the time he’d taken it for a metaphor, but what he was looking at now… His stomach rolled and awful, black despair closed in, _too late, I’m too late, God, Loki, I’m sorry, if I’d just moved faster and thought less about_ consequences _…_

He caught a trace of motion, and zeroed in on it. Loki’s fingers twitched. His chest – what remained of it - moved.

Steve jerked back, hissed in a breath. “He’s alive,” he said, half in horror and half in relief. “We have to get down there-”

“Hold it, soldier,” Natasha said, not quite sharp. “Wait for the signal, remember?” Steve didn’t know what kind of look was on his face, but Natasha’s expression softened even though her next words were harsh. “If Loki’s held out this long, he’ll hold out a little longer.”

Steve squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. _I’m so sorry,_ he thought. _Sorry, Loki, just a little bit more._ Even as he thought it, he heard a crackle from Natasha’s comm, Clint’s voice dimly starting to say, “Nat, we’re-”

Before Natasha could confirm it Steve was jumping off the ledge. The impact of hitting the ground jarred all the way through his body but he hardly stopped to breathe before running forward. He waded through the monitors and wires and tables of implements Steve didn’t examine too closely, to Loki.

He reached out to touch him and only just pulled back in time. Loki’s skin was his ridged Jotun blue, radiating cold – an attempt at defense or because he couldn’t hold the change any longer, Steve didn’t know, but he suspected any touch right now would give him frostbite.

“What’s…” Natasha, behind him. Steve felt a burst of fierce protectiveness, knowing that Loki wouldn’t want anyone to see him like this. He pushed it down.

“It’s his – natural form,” Steve said tightly. The air smelled thickly of blood. “Don’t touch him, his skin’ll burn you.”

Natasha blinked, but to his relief didn’t question. “Then how are we going to get him out?” She moved around the table, her expression bland. “Aside from the steel bands-” she gestured to the metal across Loki’s throat and legs, snug to the skin – “there’s his hands.”

Steve made himself look. He’d seen from above, but it wasn’t the same as looking at the t-shaped bars nailed through Loki’s palms, ragged edges of the wounds that spoke of struggling against them. The metal had all been welded together, table and all, into one piece.

Steve shoved his emotions down into a box and locked it. “We need to get him to change back,” he said. “At least…so we can work without getting hurt.”

“And fast,” Natasha said tightly. “We don’t have long.”

Steve inhaled, and nodded. He moved swiftly to stand by Loki’s head, forcing himself to focus only on his face – thankfully mostly untouched. “Loki,” he said, and then again, a bit more loudly. “Loki, it’s me. It’s Steve.” He saw movement under Loki’s eyelids, and his breath caught. “It’s Steve,” he repeated. “Look, I know – I know you’re – tired. But I need you to do one thing for me, oka-”

Loki’s eyes snapped open and he lunged upward, teeth bared in a feral snarl. Steve jerked away instinctively but Loki had already been snapped back with a garbled scream, stopped by his bonds. Steve’s heart squeezed. “Steve,” Natasha said, and he could see her reaching for her gun.

“Hold on,” Steve ordered. He stared into red eyes, savage with hate and pain. “Loki, it’s just me. I’m here to help you.”

A string of words spilled from Loki’s lips in a language he couldn’t recognize, along with a quantity of blood. Steve took a step closer. “You’re safe,” Steve said, with all the conviction he could summon. “Everything’s – you’re going to be fine.” He steeled himself as he extended a hand, _hating_ the animal fear in Loki’s eyes, the way he flinched. He ignored Natasha’s hiss as he laid one hand against Loki’s cheek.

His fingers went numb immediately, cold briefly making his bones ache before feeling fled. Loki’s eyes widened as Steve counted the seconds he guessed he had before doing permanent damage.

Loki’s whole body shuddered. He made a small noise, deep in his throat, and his eyes closed. Pale skin spread from under Steve’s fingers, over his face and down his neck. It only took moments for Loki to appear human as ever, and then he was perfectly still, muscles going slack, the effort seeming to have taken much out of him.

Steve breathed out a heavy sigh of relief as his eyes went to the pulse in Loki’s neck and found it still beating, though it looked fast and his skin was an unnerving greyish color, sheened with sweat. Natasha was already moving, the laser in her hand, to cut Loki free.

Steve took a moment to steady himself, and then pulled out his own. He made himself push Loki’s hand up off the table, stifling the nauseous turn of his stomach at the catch of flesh on metal. Loki didn’t so much as twitch at that or when Natasha pulled her bar out of his left palm and set it aside, his arm still splayed limply out.

Steve focused on his job, because if he thought too much about anything else he wouldn’t be able to stop.

“How are we going to carry him,” Steve said, deliberately not looking at Loki’s chest. Natasha’s face didn’t twitch.

“Carefully,” she said grimly. “Can you…get his ribs back in place.”

Her laser cut through the last bit of metal as Steve clumsily pushed – everything – back where it was supposed to be. He stopped once, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths so he didn’t vomit, afraid that if he started he wouldn’t be able to pull himself back together. It was a messy job at best, but he hoped it would be enough, at least, to last until they could get him to someone who could do better. At least, he thought grimly, it couldn’t be worse. That done, Steve began to gather him carefully up, trying to keep his eyes from fixing on the ruin of his chest.

“I am somewhat impressed,” said a familiar, metallic voice. Steve’s shoulders locked tight. “You nearly managed to trick me. But not quite.”

“Blja,” Natasha said. Steve didn’t turn, some idea in his mind, faintly, of shielding Loki with his body.

“Now,” said Doom. “You will give me back my property, and I may allow you and your friends to leave unscathed.”

 _Property,_ Steve thought, and felt a frisson of anger. “He’s not your property,” he said, harshly, and did turn, slowly, keeping Loki’s body close. He could still feel him breathing, quietly, and let that give him strength. Doom’s metallic mask was impossible to read.

“If you would rather I crush the two of you, Doom shall,” he said. “But it will avail Loki not at all. He shall still be mine.”

“No,” Steve said, wishing he had a hand to reach for a weapon. “He won’t.”

Doom raised one hand, and Steve braced himself to move behind the equipment the minute he struck, but then the wall exploded and something slammed into Doom with a clang, knocking him across the room and through the opposite wall.

“Doom!” A familiar voice roared, though it was so full of rage that Steve hardly recognized it. “You evaded me before, but no longer, and now you shall pay the price for harming my kin!” _Thor,_ Steve thought with relief. _Thank God. Or, alien._ He felt dizzy, light-headed. _Keep it together._

“We need to get out of here,” Natasha was saying rapidly, he realized. “Steve, we need to get moving. Thor’s going to bring this entire place down around us, and our teleporter-” she gestured at Loki, “is out of commission.”

“If Thor kills Doom-” Steve realized belatedly, but he could also feel Loki’s blood starting to make his hands slippery and it was hard to say the words.

“Then he does,” Natasha said, a little more sharply. “And we’ll figure out what to do about that later, but at the moment I’m a little more concerned about _us_ , so _move!_ ”

Steve moved as she shoved at his back, breaking into a run. He heard Thor’s roar of rage and glanced back just as he brought down his shining silver hammer on Doom’s upraised fist, glowing green.

The concussive blast wave knocked him off his feet, and Steve twisted as he fell, trying to shield Loki with his body. He saw Natasha drop as well, one upraised arm protecting her head. He twisted his head around to look at the passage they had taken in, but the entrance was blocked with rubble and Steve felt his stomach knot.

Then a massive green figure burst through the wall, head swinging back and forth, black eyes fixing on them. Steve tensed, suddenly excruciatingly aware of Loki in his arms, weak and vulnerable and never the Hulk’s favorite person, and Natasha, who still tended to be Hulk-shy. “Hey,” he said, cautiously. “We’re okay, here, maybe-”

The roof quaked. A few chunks of rock fell from the ceiling. Steve glanced up nervously and the Hulk moved, picking up Loki and Steve in one arm and throwing Natasha over his other shoulder.

“Careful!” Steve yelped, alarmed at what the jostling might do, one hand going to catch Loki’s head as it lolled back. 

“Hulk save,” said the Hulk firmly, and ran back the way he’d come, bounding out of the shaking castle and away from the sound of Thor and Doom’s fight. Steve focused on sheltering Loki, keeping him braced against the Hulk’s chest as much as possible, until they were out in the open air and deposited with surprising gentleness on the ground. Natasha scrambled down with somewhat more grace. Steve looked down at Loki and felt panic flutter in his chest at the magnitude of the damage, fully realized in the harsh light of day. Iron Man thudded to the ground a few feet away.

“Where the fuck is Th- _Jesus,_ ” he said, even the mechanized voice sounding slightly sick. “Oh – yeah. That’s nice. That’s real-”

Steve’s head whipped around at the second sound of a pair of repulsors and half moved defensively toward Loki as Iron Patriot hit ground, Rhodey’s faceplate flipping up and looking from Steve to Loki to Tony. “Do I even want to ask,” he said. “I do and I don’t. Why did I think this was a good idea?”

“Thank you,” Steve said sincerely. “I – we – appreciate your help-”

“I thought I remembered reading somewhere that Loki was a wanted war criminal,” Rhodey said, glaring, oddly enough, at Tony. Steve wanted to choke on his tongue. To his relief, Natasha stepped in.

“The situation’s changed,” she said, simply. Rhodey looked at her, and then at Steve. Steve fought the urge to edge defensively closer to Loki, suddenly tense.

“Uh huh,” Rhodey said eventually. “I think I’m just going to pretend I didn’t see anything and have no idea what happened here, sound good? I’ve got a Secretary of State to look after,” and took off. Steve turned back to Loki, trying to work out what he could do.

“I’m going to hear about this later,” Tony muttered, under his breath. Loki was still breathing, though shallowly, his head lolling limply to one side. He looked…Steve couldn’t even think it.

“Where’s Thor,” he asked, repeating Tony’s half spoken question of earlier.

“Thor is,” Natasha started to say, and then the god in question slammed into the ground a few feet away and flung something down, his eyes blazing, and Steve scrambled to his feet and had to fight the urge to take a step back at the inhuman rage in his gaze.

“Doom is no more,” Thor said, his voice like thunder. Steve looked down at what Thor had thrown and realized that it was Doom’s metal mask, stained red. “Let them accuse me of wrongdoing who will.”

“Yeah,” Tony murmured, “I don’t think anyone’s going to take you up on that.”

Thor’s eyes, almost berserk looking, turned to Steve. “My brother.”

Steve swallowed hard and glanced to Loki. Still breathing. The heartbeat still pounding, however weakly, at his throat. “He’s here,” he said, a little hoarsely. “We got him out.” Thor moved forward and dropped to his knees on Loki’s other side, though Steve caught the way his face spasmed in mingled anger and pain.

“Brother,” Thor said, voice a little thick. “You are avenged.” Loki didn’t so much as twitch, not even a flutter of his eyelashes. The skin of his chest had begun to heal but with his ribs all in the wrong place…Steve’s stomach rolled.

“Yep,” Tony said, his voice a little high pitched, “and now, if everyone’s good, I think I’d like to start getting out of Latveria?”

“That’s got my vote,” Clint said, appearing from somewhere, bow in hand. Steve noticed the way his eyes skated over Loki’s prone form like he didn’t quite want to look at him. “Let’s get evil Rapunzel back to the tower already.”

“We need Bruce,” Steve said, a little weakly. “Where…”

“Right here,” Bruce said, stumbling up behind them. He looked exhausted as he always did. “Let’s get out of here. It, uh. Looks like I have my work cut out for me.”

“No shit,” Tony mumbled. “You know…sometimes…sometimes I’m really okay with not being mostly invulnerable.” Steve just kept his eyes on Loki’s pulse, and the way Thor’s eyes watched his face with a fearful kind of need.

“It’ll be okay,” Steve said quietly, ostensibly to Thor, but it was as much for himself as anything. 

* * *

Bruce did what he could in the Quinjet on the way back, but it didn’t have the facilities for medical treatment, and the kit that Steve had put together was woefully inadequate for the scale of Loki’s injuries. Bruce’s mouth was a grim line and he looked like he was trying not to go green as he worked.

“His ribs are healing fast enough I’ll probably have to rebreak them to put everything back right,” Bruce said lowly, audible only to Steve and Thor. The plane smelled like blood. “For the rest…it’s hard to know what’s normal for him. His heart-rate’s too low for a human and I suspect he’s running a fever, but…if it’s infection, or something to do with what Doom did to his magic…”

“It should be helping to heal him,” Thor said, quietly. “But I have seen no sign of his power since…” He trailed off, and swallowed. “It is not…it should not be possible for him to be permanently cut off from his power.”

Bruce frowned. “Okay. Maybe it’s just – depleted, or he’s low enough on energy that…I don’t know. I don’t know anything about this. Maybe we should get a healer from Asgard or something, I am – very out of my depth-”

Loki would be furious, Steve thought, but a part of him thought it would be worth it, to know that he would recover right. “Can you do that?” He asked Thor. Thor looked doubtful.

“I…could, but they would be obliged to pass word to Odin, and Odin may…wish Loki returned to Asgard. He has not served his sentence in full.” Steve’s stomach churned.

“Okay,” said Bruce, and blew out a breath. “That doesn’t sound…optimal. Okay. Let’s just remember that option and see how things go.”

The flight seemed to take far too long, to Steve, and he stayed close by Loki the whole time. Loki didn’t stir once. At the tower, Thor took responsibility for lifting Loki and bearing him to the infirmary. Tony trailed after them, still in full armor. Clint and Natasha had their heads bowed together, and Steve paused.

Clint’s smile was sharp and not entirely genuine. “Don’t wait up, Cap.”

He went.

Steve arrived just as Thor was laying Loki out gently on one of the beds. He still looked ghastly pale, his body streaked with blood and what had been open wounds held closed by sterile strips and gauze swathing most of his torso. He hadn’t shifted back to his – other form, though, which Steve hoped was a good sign. Thor’s hand lingered on his brother’s shoulder.

“Any change?” Steve asked, his stomach knotting all over again. It looked all wrong. Even before, when Loki had been at his worst – there’d been fight in him. Now, he looked so…limp.

“Not really,” Bruce said, pushing his sleeves up. “Not that I can tell, anyway. Miraculously enough he doesn’t seem to have gone into hypoglycemic shock yet, though, which is frankly incredible.” Bruce shook his head, suddenly. “Sorry, I babble when I’m nervous.”

“Do not apologize,” Thor said, his eyes fixed on Loki. Steve moved forward.

“So what now?” He asked.

“I can start with a proper examination,” Bruce said. “And some actual medical treatment, not back of a plane improvisation. Can someone get me my kit, it should be somewhere over by the sink.”

“On it,” Tony said, still through the Iron Man mask, and clumped over to the directed sink. Bruce bent over the table, reaching out to test the pulse in Loki’s neck, and all hell broke loose.

Loki surged off the table with a guttural snarl, his hand flashing up and grabbing Bruce’s wrist. There was an audible crack and Bruce’s shout of pain turned rapidly into a growl, his skin starting to tinge green. Loki was struggling to rise, ghastly pale and bleeding.

“Bruce,” Steve said, but even as the doctor stumbled back Steve could see his control slipping. “Thor – get him out of here. Someone get – someone-” Thor grabbed Bruce and began hustling him toward the door, though Steve could see his eyes lingering on Loki.

Loki rose like a specter, unsteady and wild-eyed, taking a defensive stance even as he struggled to stand. “Loki,” Steve said, trying to keep his voice calm. “Loki, it’s okay. You’re-” _Home_ seemed presumptuous. “Safe.”

Loki’s eyes flashed to him, so at least he heard, but he couldn’t tell if he understood. He didn’t relax, vibrating, barely mended flesh breaking again as his chest heaved.  Steve swallowed hard and tried again, keeping his hands up, palms open, the universal – he hoped – gesture of defenselessness. “It’s me,” he said. “Steve. You’re going to be-”

He heard the roar of the Hulk, altogether too close, and Loki’s head snapped around, eyes widening at the same time as his lips peeled back from his teeth. Steve thanked all their lucky stars that Thor had gotten Bruce out of the room in time. He looked just on the edge of panic, and by the quickening of his breathing-

“Tony,” Steve said, making his voice stay calm. “Maybe you should go too. I don’t know…”

“Fat chance, Stevil Knievel. Not leaving you in here with your half crazy alien sorcerer boyfriend alone, whoa hey,” Tony said sharply, as Loki whirled, his hands coming up, repulsors aimed, and Steve could see Loki tensing to strike.

“He’s not threatening you,” Steve said, loudly. “Loki, look at me,” and to his immense relief Loki did turn, did look at him. There was still no indication of definite understanding in his eyes, maybe he was only reacting to stimuli (oh please, don’t let that be the case, don’t let that brilliant mind be gone) but at least it was something. “You’re safe. All right? Just keep looking at me.” He took a slow step forward and Loki scrambled back. He froze, feeling his heart clench, but Loki’s eyebrows were furrowed now, like he was truly looking at Steve, trying to recall something. There were stripes of blood down his chest, still leaking from his hands.

“I want to help you,” Steve pushed forward. “We want to…help you. You’re hurt.” He gestured, carefully, in Loki’s direction. “Loki…”

Loki wobbled, and Steve fought not to lunge in his direction, to catch him before he fell. His eyes cleared, slightly, and his tongue crept out to lick his lips. “Steve?” he asked, after a long moment, his voice rasping over his throat.

It was the first time Steve had heard him speak, and it wasn’t until he felt a rush of relief that he realized how afraid he’d been.

“Yes,” he said, in a rush of air. “Yes, it’s me. Let me help you.”

“Oh,” Loki said, his voice faint, and Steve had barely a moment’s warning before Loki’s legs gave out and he hit the floor. Steve was there a moment too late, dropping heavily to his knees beside Loki’s violently shaking form, trying to curl up like, perhaps, he might not be seen that way-

Steve reached out cautiously to lay a hand on Loki’s back and suddenly found his arms full, Loki trembling and his breathing far too rapid. He was speaking low and quickly, too fast for Steve to make out the words, and he tried to shift his arms carefully to hold Loki close, knowing how much he would hate this later, how much he might hate this _now_ but be unable to hold back. He felt sick, sick and furious, and could not feel too much regret for Thor’s actions.

“Loki,” Steve said, quietly, keeping his voice low and struggling to keep it calm. “Will you let me help you?”

Loki didn’t answer, but the shaking gradually slowed, and eventually when Steve picked him up, Loki didn’t protest, his eyes closed. Steve could still feel how tense he was, though. Not unconscious, he thought, just too tired to keep fighting. Unable to pull himself together, or to protest for the sake of keeping up appearances, and that almost scared Steve more.

He set Loki back down on the cot, trying to ease him out flat. Loki’s breathing was shallow and Steve left his hand on Loki’s shoulder, hoping the weight might be a comfort of some kind.

“I would like it noted that I like nothing about any of this,” Tony said, sounding a little sick. Steve didn’t look up. The bleeding had started again. Loki was healing, but it seemed to be too slow, staggering along rather than the rapid process he was used to seeing from both him and Thor. Like it had been stunted, somehow.

This was more than he knew how to handle. He needed Bruce, someone, but he was the only one here that Loki would respond to, other than maybe Thor – and that was a toss-up at best, but at least Thor could hold his own if it came to a fight. Thor wasn’t a doctor, though. If Loki hadn’t bled to death yet, the logical part of Steve’s brain thought, he likely wouldn’t now, but he still…

He bent over and rested his head against Loki’s, closing his eyes. “Tony,” he said, after a long pause. “Do you have…do you know if there’s a sedative around here strong enough to…” He felt a horrible kind of guilt settle in his stomach and fought it off. He had few choices. To keep Loki safe and get him help, to keep everyone safe…

“Yeah,” said Tony, “hold on a minute, I know Bruce worked up something at some point…”

Steve let both of his hands rest on Loki’s shoulders. Green sparked around Loki’s fingertips and crawled up his arms, but it seemed chaotic, undirected. Steve wasn’t sure he was aware of it at all. “It’s okay,” he said lowly, in case Loki could hear him. “You’re okay. We’re going to put you back together again, and…” He broke off. He just kept thinking, what if, what if he’d been too late, if not for Loki’s body than for his mind.

“Found it,” Tony said, and returned with a syringe and a bottle of clear fluid in one bare hand, the other repulsor still armed and ready. “Reinforced vibranium needle, apparently. So should I just…”

Steve nodded, shortly, and pressed down just lightly on Loki’s shoulders while Tony drew off some of the liquid, muttering to himself. He examined Loki for a moment, then shrugged and stuck the needle in his upper arm.

Loki’s whole body jerked as the needle went in, a snarl bursting wetly from his throat. He tried visibly to claw himself upright, but Steve held him down until the struggle slackened and he slumped, eyes barely slits. They drifted over Steve’s face as his head lolled back, without recognition.

Steve felt vaguely sick.

The roaring had quieted. The others must have gotten the Hulk back under control. Steve’s eyes lingered on Loki’s chest and its slow rise and fall. A wave of exhaustion swept over him. _I’m sorry, Loki. It’s for your own good._

“Steve,” Tony said, sounding awkward.

“Do you know how long that’ll last?” Steve interrupted.

“No idea. A few hours, maybe? It didn’t say.”

“We should…” Steve rubbed at his eyes. “When Bruce can, ask him to figure out a workable dose to keep Loki calm while he heals.” Calm. Unconscious, more likely. Groggy and confused, Loki would be more dangerous than ever, and Steve hated that he had to think of it that way. He reached out for Loki’s hand, only to pull back as he saw the still ghastly ruin of his palms. “You should go. But send Thor down.”

“That all the marching orders, Captain?” Tony drawled. Steve gave him a tired look, and Tony held up his hands. “Fine. Aye aye.”

He clomped away, still wearing the suit. Steve stayed where he was, looking down at Loki. If he just looked at his face Loki might have been sleeping, but the deep, bruise-colored circles around his eyes made him look ill. _He’ll be okay,_ Steve told himself. _He will. He’s tough._

Thor came down a few minutes later, looking tense and worried. “Friend Steve?” He said, though his eyes kept drifting worriedly toward Loki. “Is he…”

“We...I gave him a drug that’ll make him rest. To keep him calm, and everybody safe, until he’s – better.” Thor’s face fell, and Steve’s chest ached. “I didn’t want…”

“I understand.” Thor bowed his head. “I do not want anyone to come to harm. I would only that there was more I might do.”

Steve swallowed hard. “Asgard…”

Thor shook his head. “If I go to them, they will…I suspect they will demand his return. I can set myself against the All-Father if I must, but I would sooner…it would put you all in danger.” His eyes went to Loki. “I can – perhaps I can acquire some healing supplies, however. Some potions, or a distilment of Idunn’s apples…”

“I think…” How was this his to decide? Steve didn’t know what he was supposed to do. “—stay here,” he said, finally. “For now. Just…let’s give him a little time. I want you here, in case…in case.” _In case he doesn’t remember me? In case he panics and you’re the only one who can take him down without hurting him too badly?_ Steve wasn’t sure. His shoulders slumped. The adrenaline was leaving him and now he just felt heartsick and exhausted. “Thor…I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Thor’s voice was almost a rumble. “Why should you be sorry? It is with your aid that Loki is here, and safe. Did you seek to harm my brother? Did you put him in this state? I know you did not.”

Steve pressed his forehead into his hands. “I know, just…” Loki, he thought, would laugh at his apology. He wanted Loki to do so. Wanted Loki to _laugh._

Thor’s hand settled heavily on his shoulder. “My friend,” he said, softly. “You need rest. I will stay here. You must sleep. If anything should occur, I will have JARVIS waken you. You have done much, but now you need to see to yourself as well.”

Steve rubbed his eyes. “Thor…” He raised his head and tried to find a smile, searching for the right words. “You’re a good friend,” he found, which wasn’t nearly enough, but Thor smiled at him anyway. “I’ll…you’re right. I’ll go try to get some sleep, and when I get back we’ll – figure out what to do from here.”

He trudged upstairs, this time to his room. He needed to make sure Loki’s room was in order, he reminded himself, before he went back to it. Because Loki would go back to it, get better and settle back in and be okay again, and it might take a while but…

He fell into bed and crawled under the covers. He was so exhausted that he fell asleep almost immediately, but he didn’t sleep well. He dreamed of watching Loki gasp his life out on Doom’s table while Steve was just out of reach, his eyes fixed on Steve wide and frightened. Steve tried desperately to reassure him, somehow, but the words tangled in his throat and he couldn’t say anything.

He woke up briefly, reaching to the other side of the bed, but of course it was just him. Steve rolled over and closed his eyes again.

He didn’t remember his other dreams.

* * *

Steve was taken by surprise when he stumbled into the infirmary and found Bruce already fussing around Loki’s prone body, Thor holding his equipment and looking a little bewildered himself. “Bruce?” Steve said, a little blankly. “What’re you doing here?”

“You know of any other doctors in the building?” Bruce said, glancing over his shoulder. “Morning, Steve. Thor, hand me that – no, the other thing. Thanks.”

Steve faltered. “I didn’t think you’d want to…”

Bruce held up his left arm and waved the fingers at Steve. “All in one piece. One handy thing about the Other Guy. And I’m not going to hold it against him; I came around after…something like that, with someone touching my neck, I’d probably break more than their wrist.” He paused, and then sobered a little. “I didn’t forget what Thor said about Asgard. Without their expertise…it’s not like there’s a long list of doctors we can call in to treat the alien who’s still known as the architect of the attack on New York. So. Are you going to try to talk me out of a decision I’ve already made, or...?”

Steve stared at Bruce’s back a moment, and then felt himself sag. “Thanks,” he said, at length. Bruce smiled over his shoulder very briefly.

“You’re welcome.”

Steve edged a little closer. “How is he?”

Bruce didn’t look around. “Not great. But I think he’s – maybe – starting to heal. Just…slowly. It’s hard to know because I don’t know what’s normal, you know? He’s still running what I’d guess is a low fever alongside everything else, and I don’t know whether to worry about that or…not. He’s still breathing and his heart’s still going, so…” He did turn, then, and made a face. “At this point I’m just patching up what I can patch up and getting some fluids back in his body, along with a basic nutrient solution.”

Steve looked to Thor, whose expression was tight and worried, but he was quiet. Steve guessed he’d already heard the same and wondered how long he’d been here. (Some small, selfish part of him was jealous that Thor had been, and a little angry at himself, though he knew he’d needed the rest.)

“The sedative,” he started, carefully. “Is it…what should we do?”

Bruce scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Anything that knocks you out has a risk to it, and in Loki’s current state…I don’t like leaving him under too long. On the other hand, based on what happened last time…if he comes around too soon it’ll just be bad for everyone, him included.” Bruce grimaced, and looked to Thor. “Hey – on Asgard, how do the healers deal with – severe injuries like this? Do they tend to keep you guys conscious, or…”

A look of frustration crossed Thor’s face. “I am not sure. I never paid much attention.” He was resting on hand on Loki’s arm, Steve noticed, the color of his skin looking bright and healthy next to Loki’s unnerving pallor. “But it is not unheard of for them to induce a healing sleep to encourage swifter healing.”

Bruce nodded, slowly. “And then there’s the problem of…I don’t know if the compound is addictive or dependency forming. I haven’t exactly had much of a chance to test it.”

Steve felt at sea, not sure what he was supposed to do. “What would be your recommendation?” He asked, finally.

Bruce blew out a breath. “For now? I’d say keep him under for another twenty-four hours and then start weaning him off it a little at a time. That way if he comes around again still…he’ll be groggy enough that it shouldn’t be too bad.” Bruce winced, a little. “—sorry.”

“I don’t want anyone getting hurt,” Steve said, firmly. “Not Loki or anyone else.” He took a deep breath. “Thor?”

“I will accept the wisdom of Doctor Banner,” Thor said. Steve nodded.

“Then we’ll do that,” he said. His eyes went back to Loki, and he hoped, desperately, that next time Loki would wake up – at least more lucid. Not panicking, not frightened. He knew how likely that was. Steve felt a little sick at heart and hoped that he – and maybe Thor – would be enough to help Loki back to himself.

Bruce fussed around Loki for a few more minutes, then excused himself. Steve took his place, pulling up a chair, focusing on Loki’s pale face and sunken eyes rather than the bandages holding his body together.

“Thor,” Steve said, a little thickly. He swallowed, and tried again. “Are you all right?”

Thor was quiet for a long moment. “Doom is dead,” Thor said, his eyes downcast. “I know it was not…what I was supposed to do, but I do not regret it. And yet I do not truly feel better. But I do not think of myself.”

Steve reached out without really thinking about it, his fingers brushing just lightly against Loki’s where they poked out of the bandages around his palms. They felt warm and dry, strange, not what he was used to. Steve wondered if he should get a cold cloth, if that would help. “Doom…” Steve trailed off. “We can worry about that later.”

“When you were taken,” Thor said, lowly, “Loki spoke to me, for the first time. And after he returned with you…I went to him, as you suggested, and we spoke again. It was – strange, and uncomfortable, but not so ill. Merely…different.”

Steve felt his heart lift a little, lighten. Loki hadn’t mentioned that to him, but it still seemed… “That’s good news, isn’t it?”

Thor’s head bowed. “It is, but…how can I claim to be worthy of Loki’s trust when I continue to fail to protect him as I should?”

That cut a little too close to the heart of Steve’s own feelings, his own fear, selfish and unfair, that he had promised a safe haven and now…he knew Loki didn’t feel safe, that he never did, but he wanted so badly to be at least one place where he could. Steve swallowed hard. “It’s not…it’s not your fault, Thor.”

“I should never have stopped pursuing Doom,” Thor said, his voice rising.

“We – _I –_ told you not to,” Steve said. “Just like I told you not to just go and get Loki out right away. If you want to blame someone for this-”

“I will not blame you!” Thor objected loudly, and then looked at Loki worriedly, like he feared waking him up. “You have done so much…”

 _And I should have done more._ Steve looked down. “Then don’t blame yourself either. We got him back, Thor. That’s what really matters, isn’t it?”

“Aye,” Thor said, after a long moment. “It is.” There was a brief silence, then he continued, softer, “but how are you, my friend?”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m all right,” he said, pulling up a smile. Thor’s brows furrowed. “Why don’t you get some breakfast?” he added, hurriedly. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on him.”

“Very well,” Thor said, and stood up, fingers brushing Loki’s arm. He moved over and paused, reaching out to squeeze Steve’s shoulder. “I feel I have not said…I am happy, for what – the two of you have. Even if sometimes I may be envious.” His smile was small, and a little sad, and made Steve’s chest hurt. “You are right, my friend. He will recover. And you will be close by to ensure that the harm of this does not last.”

“And you,” Steve said, with a bit of a lump in his throat. Thor pulled away.

“Perhaps,” he said simply, and left. Steve looked back to Loki, watching the slow, slight rise and fall of his chest, the IVs threaded into either arm. He remembered the feral look in Loki’s eyes when he and Natasha had first found him, and the wildness in his later panic. Steve trusted Thor that Loki’s body would heal.

But Loki’s mind…

 _It is what I do. I survive._ But how much, Steve had to wonder, was too much, even for Loki to take?

* * *

The first day Bruce cut back the dosage, there was no change. Loki continued to remain as he was, motionless, too still and quiet in ways that made Steve’s nerves jangle. The second day, late, he shifted slightly and murmured something in a language that none of them understood. Steve wasn’t sure what Tony and Clint and Natasha were up to, and felt a little guilty about his neglect, but couldn’t bring himself to feel more than a little.

It took until the third day for his eyes to open.

Steve was there when they did. Out of sheer luck; he and Thor had been taking shifts. It took him a moment to recognize the vague flutter of Loki’s eyelids, and he leaned forward hastily. “Loki? Are you with me?”

Loki said nothing. Steve leaned closer, trying to look at his eyes, but they were barely open to slits. “It’s me,” Steve pressed onward. “Steve. I’m – you’re safe, all right? In the Tower. I… _we…_ got you out.”

Loki looked like he was fighting to open his eyes further. Steve could see his muscles tense, though only for a moment; he was still too weak to hold it. Or too far under. Steve’s stomach churned a little uneasily at the flicker of fear he caught across the sliver of Loki’s eye that was visible.

“It’s just a sedative,” Steve said, trying to keep his voice calm, reassuring. “Just to make sure you stay calm, so you don’t hurt yourself.” Loki’s tongue swiped clumsily across his lower lip and his breathing quickened, just slightly. Steve reached instinctively for his hand, only to pull away when he remembered the bandages, the wounds in Loki’s palms. “Loki, it’s me. We’re just – I’m just – trying to keep you safe.” He watched Loki’s throat bob as he swallowed, still visibly struggling to focus.

“It’s okay,” Steve said, keeping his voice reassuring. “You’re fine.” Loki’s fingers twitched, some green flickering around them, and Steve reached out impulsively to brush them, carefully. Loki stilled.

“Steve?” he said, voice blurry and hoarse. He blinked, sluggishly, still visibly fighting the haze of confusion. “S’that…”

“Yes,” Steve said, air bursting explosively out of his lungs. “Yes, it’s me. I’m here. I’m here and you’re – you’re still hurt, but we’re working on that.”

Loki’s eyebrows pulled together, crumpling his smooth brow. Steve found the expression comforting, though, even as he was tempted to reach out and smooth the worry away again. His bleary eyes scrutinized Steve’s face, then dropped, one of his hands moving up and tugging at the bandages. Steve quickly pulled it away, keeping his touch light, gentle. “Careful,” he said, trying to keep his heart from pounding too fast.

“Hurts,” Loki said, head turning to the side. His voice was ragged, hoarse, like he’d been screaming for days. Steve felt an unpleasant little lurch thinking that maybe he had. He wanted to apologize, but doubted it would make any sense to Loki right now.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said apologetically, instead. “I don’t know what…I don’t know if there’s anything that would even work on you.”

Loki nodded, barely, the movement slow and awkward, like he couldn’t quite coordinate his movements. “Ish’ll manage.” Steve reached out without thinking and tucked a few strands of hair back behind Loki’s ear, and let his hand linger on Loki’s head for a moment. Loki let out a quiet sigh, his eyes closing again and head turning slightly into that touch, like always, like he was constantly starving for some kind of gentleness.

Steve’s chest ached a little. “Hey,” he said quietly. “You’re going to be fine.”

Loki hummed low in his chest, eyes opening back to narrow slits. One corner of his mouth flickered upwards. “You came,” he said, sounding…not quite surprised.

 _Not soon enough to keep you from suffering._ “Of course I did,” Steve said, almost stung. “I wouldn’t have-”

“Didn’t want to…hope.” Loki’s eyes dragged closed again. “S’fine.”

 _No,_ Steve thought, the ache in his chest intensifying. _It’s not._ He ran his fingers into Loki’s lank hair, and Loki made a small, contented noise. “I’m glad you’re all right,” he said. _Doom’s dead,_ he thought about saying, _he won’t ever touch you again,_ but that could wait.

Loki’s fingers reached out and clumsily took Steve’s arm. He started to make a noise of protest, worried about Loki’s wounded hands, but Loki’s quiet, blurry voice cut through it. “Stay with me?”

Steve remembered the last time Loki had been this badly hurt, his half delirious ramblings about how nothing lasted. He reached to detach Loki’s hand from his arm, carefully, and kissed the back of his fingers. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The worry lines creased Loki’s brow again and his eyes opened. “Don’t say that,” he said, struggling to push himself up. Steve gave him a gentle nudge back down, and he went without fighting it. “Do _not –_ you will forget. Or change your mind. I do not want-”

“Shh,” Steve said, turning Loki’s face toward his, pressing his thumb to his lips. His skin still slightly too warm, though maybe better than it had been. “I mean it. I’m not going anywhere. Not as long as I can help it.” Loki’s muscles went slack only slowly. His eyes on Steve were bleary and confused and still struggling for awareness, dark circles around them of exhaustion and illness. “Trust me.”

Loki’s eyes fluttered closed. “I do.” The words were so thoughtless, so easy, that Steve’s breath caught a little. He wanted to squeeze Loki’s hand, and settled for squeezing his wrist. “Captain…” Loki said, voice little more than a puff of air. “He claimed…you were dead.”

Steve felt another pang of agony in his chest, wondering if Doom had somehow _known…_ he swallowed hard. “I’m fine, Loki.”

“That all of you…” Loki’s head lolled to the side, his words slowing. “I did not want to believe it. But…I began to wonder…” He breathed softly, for a moment. “I would have followed you.”

Steve felt vaguely sick. He didn’t want to be hearing this, didn’t want to believe that Loki meant what he suspected he did. He’d always known Loki could be reckless with his own safety, but hearing it put like that… “No,” he said, suddenly harsh. “I don’t – I don’t want that.”

Loki smiled a fraction, just barely. “Ah, Steve. You are…kind.”

 _I want you to survive and live for all the years you should have,_ Steve wanted to say, desperately. _I don’t want you to give up just because I…_

There wasn’t room on the narrow hospital bed, but Steve wanted to crawl in next to Loki and wrap his arms around him and just hold him for a while. “We’ll talk about this later,” he said. “It doesn’t…right now it doesn’t matter. I’m fine. Nothing happened to me. And you’re healing. You’re safe."

“From you,” Loki murmured, his voice fading rapidly, “I can almost believe that.”

Steve scooted his chair in closer and closed his eyes, taking slow, deep breaths to match Loki’s. He imagined, for a moment, if Loki had doubted a little less, or fought a little less hard to live, if he’d decided at any time to give up and give in…

His eyes flashed to the pulse beating in Loki’s neck, the rise and fall of his chest. He hadn’t. That was what mattered, that he hadn’t been too late, that Loki was a survivor.

Later…later he would have to work out contingency plans and fill out a report and deal with the fallout of the death of a sovereign leader. Later he’d have to talk with Loki about self-preservation and the need for Steve to know he’d be all right if the worst happened. Later…

For now he was just going to sit here. When Thor came down, he’d tell Thor that Loki had woken up. And when Loki woke up again, he’d be here.

Not going anywhere, as long as he could.


End file.
